It's not a promise, I'm just gonna call it
by Riddlemeister
Summary: When a car accident starts a domino effect of sorts, Quinn realizes that the first step to better is admitting that something's wrong. Quinn-centric. Follows show storyline until the end of season 2.
1. Chapter 1

She thinks she's dead. It's like a scene from a movie—only everything is too bright and too loud. She coughs, aware of her surroundings for the first time.

Someone is rapping on the car window and saying something, but everything feels so distant, like she is sitting inside a bubble.

Quinn blinks, attempting to put together what just happened.

* * *

><p>"Mom—"<p>

"Seriously honey, what were you thinking?" Judy Fabray's voice is reed thin as she walks into Quinn's room in the emergency room.

"Mom-"

"Texting and driving. What are the neighbors going to think? Our insurance is already through the roof. And wha-"

"MOM!"

Judy's mouth clamps shut and she looks at Quinn cautiously.

"He can't move back in," Quinn says quietly, not wanting to meet her mother's eyes. "I'll find a job. I'll make it work. Just..."

She blinks. Quinn Fabray does not beg.

"Don't let him back into our lives."

But neither does Judy Fabray. Hesitantly, Quinn looks up at her mom, who is a little speechless at her admission. Although that only lasts for a split second. Ever the Fabray, Judy puts on her unreadable face and clears her throat.

"Fine."

Just then, they hear a knocking on the glass door. The doctor slides the door over and steps in, introducing himself to Judy and greeting Quinn.

"Well," the doctor starts as he clips x-rays on the illuminator. "It looks like the impact left you with a mild concussion. You have several contusions on your arm, which I'm guessing probably came from shielding your face from the airbag."

The doctor turns around to face Quinn.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but you were really lucky Quinn. The CT scan showed no brain injury and there were no signs of internal bleeding."

Quinn hears her mother exhale next to her.

"The contusions are fairly minor so those should heal in no time."

Quinn nods, looking at her left arm.

"That's good," She comments quietly.

"Although, I would like for you to stay in the hospital overnight. Maybe even two nights."

At the mention of this, both Quinn and her mother look at the doctor.

"Is that going to be necessary?" Judy asks with a sweet voice that makes Quinn want to puke.

"I would just be more comfortable if we were able to monitor her tonight and tomorrow. Her concussion did leave her disoriented. And she fainted on the site."

Quinn looks back at her mom before looking at the x-rays.

* * *

><p>"Knock, knock."<p>

Quinn's head almost snaps off when she looks up at the source of the eerily familiar voice.

"Berry?" She says in disbelief.

"Quinn?" Rachel Berry replies incredulously, her eyes wide before breaking into a huge grin. "Hi! I wasn't aware that you were here!"

Rachel goes from being excited like she just ran into one of her school teachers outside of school to realizing that she ran into a Quinn Fabray in the hospital in two seconds. Her face falls.

"Are you alright? Are you feeling ill?"

"Uh, no, I'm fine," Quinn mumbles. Which is ridiculous, because what kind of person checks themselves into a hospital if they're perfectly healthy. Not to mention, who in their right mind voluntarily wears the god awful hospital gown she has on now?

She prays for the ground to just open up and swallow her and the stupid hospital gown whole. It may have happened before, and it is definitely not the first time Rachel has seen her in this setting, but why is it that Rachel Berry always shows up when Quinn is at the lowest of her lows?

Quinn sits up straight and gives Rachel her patented look. The shorter girl has on a purple hospital coat that is longer than the skirt she is wearing. Is that even appropriate? People go to hospitals because they already had a heart attack, not because they're asking for one.

"Oh," Rachel replies, seemingly oblivious to Quinn's efforts to stare her down. "I volunteer here!"

She enthusiastically motions to her 'Rachel B. Berry – Volunteer' name tag. There is a gold star on it and Quinn has a sneaking suspicion that it isn't really part of the regimented volunteer uniform.

"See?" She lets out excitedly as she points to a gold pin on her lapel. "As the pin—which I recently received last spring—states, I have one thousand volunteer hours and counting to my name."

"Oh," is all that Quinn can say. "So, uh, what do you do?"

Rachel takes that as an invitation to come in. She pulls up a chair and sits next to the bed, immediately making Quinn regret asking her a question.

"I actually do quite a lot…"

Quinn has no clue how she ended up doing what she's doing now, bent over and facing Rachel Berry, both of them trying to complete the day's newspaper crossword puzzle together on Quinn's hospital bed.

"I'm not quite sure that word is correct Quinn. I highly doubt they would put in such an inappropriate word."

"Inappropriate? How is 'pirating' an inappropriate word?"

"Well," Rachel starts with her matter-of-fact tone, twirling her pen subconsciously. "It's promoting illegal activities. How are musicians and artists supposed to make an honest living if newspapers are prancing around, putting words such as pirating in their crosswords?"

Quinn resists the urge to smack her with the newspaper. She settles for rolling her eyes.

"Whatever you say, Berry," She drawls out, writing the word anyway. "See? It works."

"This is preposterous," Rachel mumbles to herself. "These people are going to receive a strongly worded letter from me. If I—"

"Rachel?"

Quinn and Rachel turn to the door and they find one of the nurses standing there.

"The volunteer manager called. She needs you to work at the surgery family lounge because Edy called in."

"Oh," Rachel says quietly, slowly getting off of Quinn's bed. "I'll gladly fill in for Edy. Her job is quite exciting, if I might add. Please let her know that I'll be making my way down now."

Rachel fixes her pins and straightens her coat.

"Don't forget this," Quinn tells her, picking up the newspaper and pencil.

"I think it would be best if you finished it, Quinn," She says with a smile. "With your penchant for inappropriate words and all."

Quinn rolls her eyes again.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Rachel tells her without being asked. "Feel better."

"Bye," is all that Quinn replies. She watches Rachel leave her room before turning to the puzzle. Rachel never even once asked what she's doing in the hospital

* * *

><p>"How are you doing today, Quinn?"<p>

Quinn looks up from her still incomplete crossword puzzle and finds the doctor from yesterday standing by her door.

"Better," She says with the slightest hint of a smile. She has no clue what his name was. "Good morning, doctor. How are you?"

She watches as he pulls a chair by her bed, close enough so he can see the crossword.

"Great, actually," He responds with a smile. He motions to the crossword. "Stuck?"

"Just a little. I never figured out this one," She points to the clue.

"Let me see," the doctor mumbles, looking at the paper and twirling his pen subconsciously.

"Ah. Sergeant Pepper," He whispers to himself, writing in the letters. "There we go."

He smiles triumphantly, handing the paper back. Quinn looks at the completed puzzle.

"Thank you doctor..."

"Berry. It's Dr. Hiram Berry."

Quinn almost laughs at the irony of it all.

"You were probably still a little disoriented when we met. And no problem," He mentions as he puts his pen away. "I quite like puzzles. And I've got quite a penchant for words."

Quinn nods. That's where Rachel gets _that one_ from.

"But anyway, I just wanted to check up on you. Sometimes, injuries from car accidents don't show up until the next day because the body is still in shock. But so far, everything looks great. It looks like you'll be able to go home no problem. Most likely by tomorrow."

"Really?" Quinn lets out in surprise. Dr. Berry laughs.

"You almost sound disappointed, Quinn."

Quinn clamps her mouth and looks at her away for a second.

"No, I'm not. Just a little surprised," She mutters, missing Dr. Berry's knowing smile. Quinn almost asks him about something that has been bugging her when they hear a knock.

"Good morning, Quinn!"

Quinn looks up at the doorway and sees Rachel in her volunteer's uniform holding that day's newspaper in her hands.

"Oh, sorry da—Dr. Berry," Rachel quickly corrects. "I didn't know you were here."

"It's no problem, Rachel," Dr. Berry replies, smiling and waving her over. "I was just about to finish up."

Dr. Berry returns his attention to Quinn and gives her a small smile.

"Just relax for today," He tells her with a tone reminiscent of a father. Or maybe a doctor. Quinn isn't really sure which. "Try not to use your left arm too much and stay away from the caffeine. You'll be home before you even know it."

Quinn nods, plastering a smile. She isn't really sure how much she wants to go home right at that moment.

"I'll see you later," Dr. Berry says before getting up, passing Rachel and acknowledging her by tousling her hair. Rachel pouts ever so slightly, before smiling and evading her father's hand.

Quinn watches the exchange curiously, immediately looking away when Rachel turns her attention to her.

"I assume you cheated and had my father help you with the crossword," Rachel starts with a disapproving look, sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing the paper.

"It was one word," Quinn responds and raises her eyebrow, slightly appalled by the accusation.

* * *

><p>Dr. Berry clears Quinn to go home several hours after lunch. Rachel wishes her a speedy recovery before frolicking off to her other duties as a volunteer. She also leaves Quinn that day's crossword and a book of crosswords she has brought with her, thinking that Quinn's stay at the hospital is going to last for longer than a day.<p>

Quinn sits in the room, dressed and ready for her mother to pick her up.

Forty-five minutes later, Quinn realizes that it's pointless.

She stares at her phone, ignoring the stupid ticking clock above the door. She knows the nurse is going to go into the room any minute soon; asking about her mom and about when she is coming pick her up. Quinn isn't going to tell them that her mom never picked up in the first place. Or that her phone has been dead since before the accident.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Quinn pulls out her address book and looks for a number.

* * *

><p>"What kind of shenanigans did you get into now?"<p>

"The usual," Quinn says dryly, throwing her things into the back seat.

"Hey! I've told you a million times before—watch it. That's leather."

It takes all that Quinn has to not roll her eyes. She opens the passenger door, sits down and checks her reflection in the mirror. She hears a snort and turns to her left.

"Jesus, Q," Santana starts. "It's a hospital."

"Which is why you took forever, right? Because you couldn't pick an outfit?"

Santana's mouth clamps shut.

"Well excuse me for driving over here on such short notice to pick your ungrateful ass up. I have a life too, ya know."

Quinn looks away. She never is a big fan of owing people.

"Okay, fine," Santana concedes, throwing her hands up in the air. "So maybe I was just chilling in my room and watching Jersey Shore when you called. You happy?"

Quinn almost laughs. She shakes her head and buckles her seat belt.

"What is it with that show that has you glued to the screen?"

Santana smiles, putting the gear on reverse and pulling out of the parking lot.

"It's only the awesomest show in the world. You should see for yourself. I think if I speed and blow all the stop signs in my neighborhood, we should make it before Snooki figures out how to spell 'tomato.'"


	2. Chapter 2

"I can't believe people actually watch this trashy show," Quinn says, unable to hide the disgust on her face. And yet, she thinks as she reaches for the salsa dip, she can't make herself look away either.

"Oh please," Santana rolls her eyes and looks at Quinn. "You find joy in watching lesser people act like big idiots. This kind of shit gives you a high or something."

Quinn shoots daggers in her direction.

"'Sides, it's freaking hilarious."

"They're just so vulgar. And unnecessarily dramatic," Quinn relents, pinching her nose as if something around her reeks. It's been hours since Santana picked her up from the hospital and they're sitting on Santana's couch, watching an episode of Jersey Shore. Quinn still has a slight headache, although at this point, she isn't sure if it's from the car accident or Snooki spelling tomato with a u.

Santana shakes her head in disbelief before turning back to the TV. Quinn attempts to turn her phone on again, only to be met by a black screen.

Santana clears her throat.

"So," She starts casually. "Are you ever gonna tell me what landed you in the hospital this time?"

There really is no beating around the bush with this girl.

"It's really nothing."

Santana is quiet for several minutes, which is a lot, considering who she is after all. She's quiet long enough for Quinn to think that the subject has been dropped.

"That's a load of bull. Stop lying," she says with a steely voice.

"Oh yeah, well what do you care?" Quinn responds with a rather calm voice, not looking at Santana.

"I care enough that I dropped everything I was doing and beat three stoplights to get you."

Quinn isn't really expecting that. Not at all. She's expecting a remark about baby mommas and something dumb like that. Santana has a car, and enough sense to not spread anything about her. And that's honestly why she called Santana.

They've always had a rather pretentious friendship. Close when beneficial or when threatened by an external force, but practically jumping at the chance to out rank each other in the social hierarchy of things when given the chance.

But that's all gone now.

They're not wearing their dry cleaned red and white uniforms anymore. They have no one. And they're both sitting here, watching Jersey Shore, at a loss with what to do with their lives.

Quinn suddenly realizes that while friendship is still a foreign concept, they can hang out and look out for each other. After all, Santana did just drop everything and beat three red lights to pick her up at the hospital.

She just doesn't know why anyone would ever do that for her.

Sighing, Quinn looks over and finds Santana staring at her expectantly.

"Oh, you know," Quinn finally shrugs, suddenly finding her nails interesting. "The same, typical stuff. Car accident, concussion—"

"Woah, hold up there blondie," Santana says suddenly, sitting up straight and turning to look at her with a disbelieving look on her face. "You got into a car accident and got a concussion? Wha, shouldn't you be resting or something like that? This show's probably not good for your scrambled brain."

"I'm not dying, Santana," Quinn mutters while rolling her eyes. "And this show isn't good for anyone's brain."

"Just because you're having a lapse of judgment, I'll ignore that comment," Santana quips before settling back into the couch. "Who's the bastard who hit you?"

"No one."

Oh.

"Texting, huh?"

"I had a lot of things going on," Quinn says slowly, which isn't really agreeing or disagreeing.

Santana nods, slowly piecing together her version of the story.

"That's gonna screw up your insurance," She says after a moment, sounding like someone who's had extensive experience with this situation. Which she does.

"I know," Quinn sighs, closing her eyes for a second. "I need a job."

She waits for a snide remark about the little princess never having worked a day in her life but it never comes. She looks over and finds Santana in deep thought.

"I think I know a place."

* * *

><p>She finds her house keys after digging through all of her bags and it isn't until she's opened the door that she hears Santana's car drive away. Quinn picks up her bags and goes into her dark house, feeling around for the light switch.<p>

Walking into the kitchen, she sees the unwashed wine glass in the sink and figures her mom is still sleeping in her room. She doesn't fail to notice the post it on the fridge, telling her that they are out of milk. She sighs, taking off the note and walking to the sink to wash the dishes.

When her phone finishes charging, Quinn sees that she has new voicemail. Or rather, several voicemails.

One from Rachel:

'_Hello Quinn, this is Rachel Berry. I do hope you're feeling better. I'm quite sure my dad explained thoroughly what steps to take after having a concussion—he's quite a great doctor after all. But I just thought it would be beneficial to repeat them again, in case you've forgotten—which is very common in people who have experienced a concussion. Please do get a lot of sleep, a—'_

She successfully deletes that one after several failed attempts and waits for the next message. Which is from Santana:

'_Hey Q! You forgot your stupid scarf at my house. Who wears scarves in the summer time anyways? So yeah, uh, call me back and let me know if you want it back. And if you're still alive."_

And the last one is from someone she doesn't know.

_Hi Quinn. This is Angie Foster with Lima General Hospital. I meant to speak to you before you left, but I guess Dr. Berry cleared you earlier than he expected. I just wanted to check in on you and see how you're doing. Why don't you give me a call whenever you can. I have a few questions I'd like to ask you. _

She saves that one, although she doesn't really know why.

"Quinn?" Her mom starts in a not so patronizing tone while she makes her way down the stairs.

"Yes?"

"Oh, thank God," Judy says with relief. "I thought someone had broken in or something."

She gives Quinn a kiss on the temple before grabbing milk out of the fridge. It takes her several minutes to remember what just happened.

"I called our health insurance," She mutters next to Quinn, who ignores her and continues to chop vegetables.

"And our car insurance. I mean, seriously honey, couldn't whatever gossip you had for Santa-ana wait until after you got to where you were going?"

Quinn says nothing.

"I thought you were more responsible than that. Storming out of the house in the middle of a conversation with your mother and then driving recklessly. Thank heavens you weren't hurt."

Quinn reaches for the potatoes, avoiding the onions because there is no way in hell she'd cry now. Even if it's because of something stupid like an onion.

"Although we're going to be strapped for cash for a while. You know, your dad—"

The absence of the sound of chopping is coupled by a sharp intake of breath.

"Mom," Quinn starts slowly, exhaling and picking up the knife to continue chopping vegetables. "I'm sorry. I was irresponsible and I should have never done any of that. But Santana's helping me out with a few people she knows to get this one job. And I can pay for some of the bills."

Don't let him come back is what she wants to say.

"That girl isn't setting you up with her stripper friends is she?"

She really can't deal with this right now, Quinn thinks to herself as she chops the carrots with more force.

"No mom, it's a job at an assisted living. Like a home," She says with a perfectly calm expression on her face. It takes years of practice, but Quinn's got it down to a tee.

Her mom leaves her alone and Quinn quickly finishes the vegetables. Wiping her hands, she picks up her phone and walks out to the backyard.

* * *

><p>"Quinn, hi," an older woman greets her as she walks into the waiting room. Quinn gets up and extends her hand.<p>

"Ms. Foster?"

"Call me Angie," the other woman says with a kind smile, ushering Quinn into her office.

"You wanted to talk to me about something," Quinn says after both of them finish getting settled. Angie takes her glasses off and leans on her table. Quinn's eyes drift to the name plate in front of the desk.

Social Worker.

"Don't be alarmed, it's just a title to make me sound more legitimate," Angie tells her with a small laugh, following her eyes to the name plate.

"Quinn," she says seriously all of a sudden. Quinn looks up at her cautiously, unsure of what she had to say.

"I want to hear the story from you. What happened with the car?" she asks softly. Quinn hesitates.

"I just—" She starts but doesn't finish, not really sure of what she wants to say.

"Was it really texting?"

Quinn doesn't know if it's because of the way Angie asked sincerely or the way she looked like she isn't judging her or the way that she actually sounds like she cares, but she decides to tell the truth.

"No, it wasn't," Quinn says quietly. "My phone was already out of battery before the crash."

"Oh," Angie starts, tilting her head slightly as if expecting her to say more. And when Quinn doesn't say another word because she's already said too much, Angie merely nods and puts her glasses back on.

"You need to find a job, right?"

"Yes," Quinn replies, a little surprised that she isn't being pressed into talking. "But my friend has a contact with Sunrise Senior Living, so…"

"That's a nice place to work," Angie says with a smile.

"Is it?" Quinn asks, sincerely curious.

"Oh sure," Angie responds, picking up a brochure from her drawer. "It's really a great community. And the staff is just a wonderful collection of people."

Quinn nods, scanning the brochure in her hands. They end up talking about the home for another thirty minutes. Neither one of them notices that the appointment already ended.

"Oh wow, I've been taking up so much of your time," Quinn apologizes after she sees the clock. "I'm sorry."

She gathers her stuff and prepares to leave when Angie speaks up.

"Quinn, you know, my door is always open if you need to talk to someone," she offers, getting up as well. "Just let me know ahead of time and I'll make sure I make room in my schedule to talk about retirement homes with you one more time."

Quinn stops and looks at her for a second, considering what she is being told.

"I think I'd like that."


	3. Chapter 3

"Try not to kill anyone," Santana says to her as she steps out of the car and Quinn can't tell if she's being serious or not. She settles for kidding.

"I'm not you," She replies before closing the door behind her.

It's her first day of real work after two days of training and she finds herself straightening her nametag in the locker room. She almost laughs at the irony of it all, remembering Rachel Berry straightening her own nametag in the hospital. Not bothering to check her dorky penguin uniform one more time, Quinn walks out of the locker room, heading towards the dining room where they were serving breakfast.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Quinn finds herself standing near a table with an older man holding out his coffee mug to her.<p>

"My, what a beautiful young lady you are," he says with a bright smile. Quinn smiles her small and weathered Cheerios smile and says thank you quietly.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Do you have a boyfriend…Miss Quinn?" the old man asks her, looking at her nametag for a second. Quinn almost laughs.

"No," She says quietly.

"Perfect! You should join me for dinner then! And then we can get married!"

Quinn opens her mouth to respond when a familiar voice cuts her off.

"Quinn?"

All color drains from her face. She has a 75 year old man clinging onto her arm and proposing to her. And now this. She turns around slowly, plastering a small smile on her face.

"Sam," She says slowly, looking at his server uniform.

"It is you!" He lets out with a grin, walking over with a tray of orange juice. "I didn't know you worked here too."

"It's my first day," she tells him quietly, turning to the table behind her to clean up.

"Is this young man the reason why you won't marry me?" Quinn's newly minted and self proclaimed fiancé asks, turning to face Sam with a sour look on his face.

"Oh no, Mr. Kent," Sam offers, putting a hand on the elderly man's shoulder, "She's all yours."

Quinn shoots him a discreet death glare.

"As long as you'll remember to play some chess with me later."

"Oh yes," Mr. Kent mutters as he gathers his cane and stands up. His nurse helps him up and tells him it's time to go back to his room. "Maybe this time you might actually win."

Sam laughs.

"Maybe, Mr. Kent," Sam calls out to his retreating figure before turning to face Quinn.

"This is so awesome!" He says excitedly, helping Quinn clean up the recently vacated table. "We're coworkers. Oh man, you're gonna have so much fun here, Quinn."

"I bet."

"We'll be like Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi, except nobody dies in the end."

"Wha—?"

"Oh Sam!"

The two of them turn at the sound of an old woman beckoning Sam and see a table of six old women, smiling and waving to Sam. Quinn can't help but laugh.

"Looks like you've got quite a following here."

Sam laughs, running his hand through his hair and picking up his tray.

"I'll catch you later Quinn. Maybe we can take our breaks together and I can give you a grand tour of the place. Introduce you to some of the residents," He tells her before turning around. "I'll be right with you Mrs. Johnson!"

Watching him walk over to a table of elderly women waiting impatiently, Quinn shakes her head with a small smile on her face before turning her attention back to the table.

* * *

><p>"So, this is our awesome common area," Sam says as he leads her into a huge hall with comfortable chairs and a fireplace. "Pretty sweet, huh?"<p>

"Yeah," Quinn says, looking around the room.

"Oh, man," Sam says suddenly, looking at his watch. "We're late!"

"Late for what? Our shift's over," She argues, following him to God knows where nonetheless.

"We're late for bingo!"

* * *

><p>"This is Quinn, she's new here," Sam announces to the table enthusiastically, motioning to Quinn next to him. Quinn waves and looks around the table. There were three other people seated on the desk, two women and one man.<p>

"Hi," she says quietly, smiling slightly.

"Hello, dear," one of the ladies greets her. "I'm Linda, this right here's Mary."

"Hi," the other lady says.

"And that's Maurice."

"I can introduce myself, you know," the old man at the end scoffs, collecting his bingo pieces together. He takes a second before realizing he has yet to address Quinn.

"Come on you two, we're about to start!" He tells them like it's the most obvious fact in the world, giving them two bingo cards.

"Thank you Maurice," Sam says with an apologetic smile, taking the cards and handing one to Quinn.

"Things are about to get real," he whispers to Quinn as they sit down.

* * *

><p>"BINGO!" Maurice screams for the second time, standing up victoriously. It's taking every ounce of self control in Quinn to not laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Next to her, Sam is freely laughing, clapping his hands along with the rest of the room. Quinn claps her hands, laughing slowly and watching Maurice receive his second short break cookie.<p>

"This is how it's done," Maurice says to Quinn with a big smile, his seemingly sour mood earlier disappearing with the growing pile of cookies on the table.

The whole thing is ridiculous. And a little fun, Quinn admits to herself. She gets what Sam meant by "real" after several bingos. Getting a bingo is like winning the lottery. The winner gets their choice of snacks or drinks (or little trinkets, according to Sam, if a holiday is right around the corner) and the whole group applauds the winner.

"How do you keep winning?" Linda cries next to Maurice, looking over at his bingo card. Maurice covers his card and pulls it closer to him, as if he was protecting his hand in poker.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Quinn will never admit it, but it's the most fun she's had in a while.

* * *

><p>"Maurice takes bingo very seriously. As in, he has his own set of poker chips to mark the card," Sam says with a smile, driving out of the parking lot. He's offered to drive Quinn home on his way to his second job, saying that he still owes her for babysitting and being such a good friend to him and his family.<p>

"That's pretty intense," Quinn responds.

"Oh yeah," Sam tells her knowingly, turning to look at her. "I told you it was going to get real."

They're quiet for a second and Quinn wonders if Sam remembers how to get to her house.

On paper, they're perfect for each other. Really. And sometimes, she wonders what would have happened if they had met later in life. Or if they had better timing.

But that's only sometimes. Most of the time, she looks back at how weird it is that they've become somewhat closer now that they're not dating. She really does enjoy babysitting his siblings and his family is as close as she'll ever get to a good and happy family. One that eats together in that small motel room while Quinn always finds herself eating dinner alone in that god awful house of theirs.

She remembers that she considered calling him to pick her up, before realizing that Sam already has a lot on his plate.

Sam starts humming a familiar song and it takes Quinn to realize what it is.

"You are not humming Katy Perry," she says in disbelief, looking at him. Sam laughs.

"What? It's catchy."

Quinn only laughs, realizing that they're already driving down her street. Sam does remember.

"Well, here we are," Sam announces as he pulls up to her house. Quinn is suddenly really glad that her car is inside the garage. Sam looks out the window and speaks again.

"Casa Fabray."

Quinn gathers her things and pauses before stepping out.

"Hey Sam," She mutters, calling his attention. Sam looks away from the window.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Quinn starts. "For driving me home and helping me out on my first day."

"And don't forget about the bingo!" He adds with a laugh.

"And thanks for the bingo," Quinn relents, shaking her head. She steps out and closes the car door. She takes about two steps when Sam calls out to her.

"Don't worry about it. It's what friends do," He says before waving and driving away.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks to the people that are reviewing :)_

* * *

><p>"What do you think Quinn?"<p>

"I don't really know," Quinn starts hesitantly, looking at the pamphlet in her hands. "I've never taken an actual art class before."

"All the more reason to take this one," Angie responds with a small smile, looking at Quinn with the same encouraging face.

She's been talking to Angie for almost three weeks now, going to their scheduled meetings and occasionally dropping by whenever she feels like chatting with the other woman. It's nice to have a sane adult in her life for once.

After Angie pitches the idea of taking a different kind of class once the school year starts, something not so labor intensive and rigid like her full AP course load, the subject of art classes comes up and they've been going back and forth on the topic for a week now. Quinn does like drawing on the side. And she doesn't mean those rather inappropriate drawings of Berry.

She actually draws. And it really is a stress reliever. The charcoal and the soft contours. It's something that she doesn't have to work very hard on. It's also something that is just solely hers. No one has ever seen her real drawings. And she wants to keep it that way.

But Angie has a point.

"I'll think about it," Quinn finally says, putting the pamphlet in her bag and seriously making a mental note to look into it later.

* * *

><p>"You're early today."<p>

Quinn looks away from her locker and finds Sam walking into the staff locker room with his street clothes.

"I finished my chores early," She mumbles with a smile, straightening her tie and fixing her hair.

"Cool," Sam replies with a genuine smile while he unlocks his locker. "Awesome, we have enough time to check out the Oak room."

"The Oak room?"

* * *

><p>She finds out, as she follows Sam to the end of the building, that the Oak room refers to the study in the retirement home. She stifles a gasp when she walks in and she's literally surrounded by books and vinyl records and the most beautiful turn table she's ever seen in her life.<p>

"Sweet, right?" Sam says excitedly, making his way over to the record collection.

Quinn's a little speechless. She's not gonna lie, the home has so many hidden gems that she never really thought would be in a home.

"These are amazing," Quinn manages to whisper, looking through the records closest to her.

"I know, and it's so peaceful in the morning," Sam tells her as he brushes off the dust on one of the records. Quinn watches him place the record on the turn table before picking up the arm and carefully placing it down on the spinning record. Sound fills up the room and Sam looks pretty impressed with himself. Quinn laughs.

"What?" Sam asks her with a little incredulous look on his face.

"Nothing," Quinn responds as she sifts through the book titles on the bookshelf.

"How awesome would it be to have one of these rooms in your place one day," Sam says more to himself than to her. He muses about it more before realizing that they have five minutes to clock in.

"Oh, we gotta go," He reminds her as he puts the record away. "Wouldn't wanna be late to breakfast and be banned from bingo."

* * *

><p>Quinn wins at bingo later that day and Maurice is not very happy about it. He sulks a little, until Quinn hands him her cookie.<p>

"He doesn't like charity," Linda leans in and says in a not so discrete voice.

"I can speak for myself!" Maurice calls out with his arms crossed. He turns to Quinn. "I don't like charity."

"Oh, this isn't charity," Quinn lets the table know with a knowing smile. "I get something in return."

Maurice looks at her with his eyebrow raised and Quinn smiles. They have the same eyebrow expression down.

"You all have to show me your favorites in the Oak room."

Linda claps her hands in front of her and its dizzying how it reminds Quinn of Berry clapping like a seal.

Sam is smiling like an idiot, looking back and forth between Quinn and Maurice and taking a bite out of his cookie.

The table is looking at Maurice, all holding their breaths and waiting for his answer.

"Fine, fine," Maurice finally says with a mock annoyed tone. "But I want more oatmeal raisin cookies."

* * *

><p>Quinn's putting everything away when Sam walks back into the locker room.<p>

"Well worth every cookie," Quinn says out loud.

Sam laughs.

"We've been missing out."

Quinn nods, gathering all of her stuff into her bag. Sam closes his locker and sits by her.

"Need a ride today?"

"Oh," Quinn straightens up. "I promised Santana I'd hang out with her so she's picking me up."

"Ah, I see," Sam replies, looking up at her. He's holding back laughter. "Jersey Shore?"

"Be quiet," Quinn mumbles discreetly, closing her locker and shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Sam starts laughing even more.

"Dude, whatever floats your boat," He says between laughs, getting up and opening the door for her. "But remember, you're going to Sandy's tea party. She'll be really grouchy if you cancel on her this weekend."

Quinn laughs a little.

"Don't worry. I actually like hanging out with your little sister."

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, did he just?" Quinn doesn't even finish the sentence as she crinkles her nose at the scene in front of her. She reaches for the dip that Santana keeps hogging while looking intently at the TV.<p>

"Yep, he just did," Santana responds without looking away from the TV. She takes the dip back and almost looses an arm when she attempts to double dip.

"Owie!" She screams. "Jesus, Q! You gots to calm down."

"That's disgusting, you know I hate double dipping."

"Which is exactly why I do it," Santana says with her smart alec tone, attempting to double dip one more time.

"Ow!"

"Do that one more time and I'll break your fingers."

Santana throws her hands up in the air and rolls her eyes.

"_Ay Dios mio_, my life is so hard," She says to no one in particular. "Bitches coming into my house, telling me how to eat my salsa."

"Quit complaining," Quinn drawls out, relenting and handing her the dip.

"So, how's the job with the old folks?" Santana asks as she stuffs her face with chips.

"Fun, actually," Quinn says nonchalantly. "The place itself is pretty cool. And the residents have really interesting stories."

"Really? I thought it was going to be a snoozefest."

"Definitely far from it," Quinn looks at Santana before settling back into the couch.

"Oh yeah, did Berry Facebook invite you to her little glee get together?" Santana asks her during a commercial break.

"She did."

"You going?" Santana continues cautiously.

"I don't really know," Quinn lets out with a sigh. "I don't feel like watching her and Finn canoodle all over the place."

"True that," Santana says with a nod.

"Are you going?" Quinn asks after a minute passes.

"Maybe."

"Seriously?" Quinn asks with a laugh.

"Brittany wants to go!" Santana reasons with her.

"Of course," Quinn lets out, letting the subject drop. Brittany and Santana is a whole other can of worms that she doesn't want to approach right now.

"Come with us," Santana says out of the blue. Quinn doesn't miss the slightly pleading undertone. Not that Santana would ever admit that she needs the support or something to that effect because Brittany is still with Artie.

"I'll think about it," she relents after thinking about it for a bit and she can feel Santana ease up next to her. She takes this as an opportunity to ask her something. She hesitates before finally saying something.

"Do you know anything about the art program in school?"

"I'm in art."

The way Santana says it so nonchalantly literally almost makes Quinn choke. She downs a gulp of water before looking at the other girl.

"You draw?" She asks incredulously.

"Well don't sound so surprised," Santana lets out with a hurt look on her face. "Bitch, please."

Quinn continues to stare at her with her eyebrow raised.

"I painted that one," Santana says smugly, pointing to the colorful depiction of a Mexican fiesta framed and hanging on the wall.

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

Quinn looks at the painting then at Santana before getting up to look at the signature. Lo and behold, she makes out a 'S. Lopez' from the loopy signature. She steps back and admires the painting she always thought was bought from a famous artist or something along those lines.

"I draw too," She says quietly without turning away from the painting.

"Babe, those bathroom drawings of the singing hobbit—as artistic as they were—hardly count as art," Santana quips from the couch, opening another bag of chips. Quinn walks back to the couch and sits next to her quietly.

"If I show you something, will you promise not to laugh?"

Santana looks at her with a questioning eyebrow and pursed lips.

"We're not talking about more inappropriate drawings, are we?"

* * *

><p>"Well, shit son," Santana says out loud as she flips through Quinn's sketchbook. The other girl is sitting next to her, quietly watching her study each drawing.<p>

"They're not really that much," Quinn starts, regretting her decision and moving to grab the sketchbook.

"Hold up!" Santana yells as she yanks the sketchbook away from Quinn's reach. "I'm not done."

"I don't even know how to use colors and all those types of paints," Quinn reasons again. She just picks up a magazine to distract herself from attempting to yank the sketchbook out of Santana's hands again.

When Santana doesn't say anything back, Quinn turns to look at her.

"San?"

Santana softly touches the last drawing in the book.

"This is beautiful," She says quietly.

Quinn smiles inwardly.

"It might be a little late, but I think I want to learn art from a teacher," She says finally.

"Then take art this year," Santana responds, closing the book and handing it to her. "The teacher is really awesome and we have a ton of art supplies."

Quinn nods absentmindedly, flipping her sketchbook open and looking at the same drawing that Santana was just looking at.

* * *

><p>She walks into her house and flips the light switch on.<p>

"Mom?"

No one answers back and Quinn finds an uncorked bottle of Riesling on the kitchen counter. Her mom has been drinking a lot more lately—even more than the usual. Her mom's laptop is next to it and despite all her attempts to avoid the screen, something catches her eye.

It's an email from her dad.

She feels all the blood draining from her face and she literally has to sit down to calm herself. She stares at the email but somehow can't read any of the words.

And the email is just the most recent on in a thread of emails that go as far back as before her accident. She wants to vomit.

"Quinn?" She hears her mom call from upstairs. And it's too late when she realizes that her mom is making her way down the stairs.

"What are you doing?"

"Mom, why are you talking to dad again?"

"That's none of your business," Her mom responds acidly, flipping the laptop shut and putting her glass in the sink. She just stays there and puts her hands on the counter.

"What do you mean it's none of my business?" Quinn says incredulously. "Mom, he's going to ruin our lives. Why can't you see that? You can't let him just waltz back into this house after all he's done."

She can hear her voice escalating. Her mom turns to look at her and she literally takes a step back when she sees the look on her mom's face.

"You don't think I know that, Quinn?" She manages to spit out. Two angry Fabrays is never a good thing. "I know what he's going to do. I have lived my life in fear of your father for far too long to forget. But what am I supposed to do? I can't do this alone."

Quinn is taken aback. Her mom has never, ever, opened up about any of this stuff.

"You wouldn't understand."

That snaps Quinn right back to reality.

"I wouldn't understand? Mom, are you kidding me?" She's expecting to hear herself blow up. Instead her voice is reed thin. She clenches her fists.

She understands. Her life is in shambles, she's lost absolutely everything and here she is, sleepless because she wakes up every single night just as her car crashes into the tree in her dreams.

She doesn't really know what happened in that car. Call it a lapse of judgment. She had an argument with her mom, very similar to the one they are having now, she was crying uncontrollably and it's the first time she became so keenly aware of how alone she really was. And then there was a little girl with a puppy in the middle of the street and before she knew it, she was in a hospital.

Her life is crumbling in front of her and she honestly feels like she's screaming and no one can hear her.

She sees the look on her mom's face and that stops her from saying anything else. It's like looking at a mirror. In the end, she and her mom are on the same boat. She shuts her eyes and pushes the tears back.

"Quinn," Her mom starts but Quinn shakes her head. She walks away but she does the sensible thing this time. Instead of running out and jumping into a car, she just goes upstairs to her room and sits quietly on her bed.

She doesn't hear her mom come up and she knows that she's keeping that bottle of Riesling company. Judy Fabray drinks her problems away while Quinn physically runs away from them. The apple really does not fall far from the tree.


	5. Chapter 5

Quinn wakes up on Saturday and leaves a note on the fridge. The cold war that started earlier in the week is still in effect and Quinn has barely said a word to her mom. It's a mess, but she'd rather not think about it at the moment.

She steps outside and finds Santana sitting on her doorstep.

"Vamonos?" Santana asks as she gets up and dusts off her pants.

"Let's go," Quinn responds, walking to the parked car on the street.

* * *

><p>Rachel Berry's party is in full swing when they get there. Santana practically drags her to the pool in the back and they plop down by Sam, who has brought his guitar and is hanging out with Mike and Tina on the deck. All the noise and laughter is a good break from her house.<p>

Brittany and Artie are playing some game in the pool with Mercedes, Kurt and that boy with thick eyebrows and she feels Santana stealing glances every five seconds.

She finds Rachel on the other side of the deck, most likely making sure that Puck and Finn are keeping her vegan burger a good foot away from the regular burgers on the grill. She decides to liken herself to that vegan burger, keeping a good five feet away from the wonder couple at all times.

A little while later, when they're all downstairs and participating in what Rachel calls 'team-building' (Also known as Rock Band with her hogging the microphone), Quinn escapes to the kitchen.

She's quietly studying the fridge that's ridiculously riddled with pictures when she hears a voice behind her.

"Quinn."

She turns around immediately and finds Dr. Berry still in his scrubs, standing there with a cup of orange juice.

"Dr. Berry, hi," She says slowly, just remembering who is talking to her. She's nervous to say the least and she's eyeing the lovely cup of bright orange liquid that eerily resembles a slushie. Somehow, she can't help but start wondering if the juice would leave a stain on her clothes. Everyone and their mom knows that she's been a class A bitch to Rachel for years. Granted, she's never personally slushied Rachel; and she likes to think that those days are over. Berry still annoys the hell out of her, but this whole raining on her parade twenty four seven business is getting old. But still…

She was too disoriented back then, but looking back now, she's surprised Dr. Berry didn't just strangle her or give her less pain medication and make_ her_ want to strangle herself when she was in the hospital after her accident.

"Do you want some?" He asks; dangerously motioning to the orange juice and making Quinn almost flinch. She can't tell if he's being sincere or just screwing with her on purpose. She nods with a small nervous smile, hoping he doesn't notice.

"Well don't look so tense," He says with a chuckle, pulling the glass of orange juice in towards him. He's_ definitely_ screwing with her.

"Hiding away from all the team bonding?"

Quinn opens her mouth to protest but Rachel's dad laughs.

"It's okay, I won't tell," He tells her while he grabs a bagel from the top of the fridge. "Rachel can be a little over enthusiastic sometimes."

Now Quinn has to laugh at that.

"Just a little," She quips.

"How have you been feeling?"

"Good," Quinn says with a small smile.

"Good," Dr. Berry repeats, making his way out of the kitchen. "It's good to see you again. Stay out of trouble, kid."

She nods and waves, awkwardly standing in the kitchen. She turns to the island and notices a newspaper opened to the crossword section. Against her better judgment, she inches closer and picks up the pencil next to the paper. It's got stars and is sickeningly pink, so that can only mean one thing.

"Dad—" Rachel Berry stops midsentence as she enters the kitchen. Quinn freezes, unable to drop the starry pencil. She turns around slowly and faces Rachel.

"Are you working on my crossword puzzle?" Rachel asks with a slightly accusing tone.

"Maybe," Quinn responds. She's expecting a full blown diva moment and she's pretty surprised when she doesn't get one.

"Oh, wonderful," Rachel says as she claps her hands in front of her. "You can assist me. There are several clues that are just mind boggling."

She moves to the counter and before Quinn can say anything, Rachel has already pulled a chair and plopped down next to her. She grabs the pencil from Quinn and pulls the paper between the two of them.

"See this one? 'funny bone.' I know it's a pun," Rachel starts explaining. "I just can't put my finger on it."

"Humerus," Quinn says simply.

"I don't appreciate you laughing at my efforts," Rachel responds with a slightly offended expression, absentmindedly putting the pencil against her chin.

"No," Quinn can feel her eyes rolling. "That's the answer. It's the humerus bone. As in your upper arm. Does that ring a bell?"

She points to her own upper arm. She can literally see the whole thing making sense in Berry's head.

"Oh," Rachel replies after a minute. "I get it! Genius!"

She excitedly writes the answer down and Quinn can't help but shake her head. She grabs the pencil from her.

"You're spelling it wrong," She mumbles as she erases the 'o' on the paper.

"I never was that great in anatomy," Rachel muses. "Although it seems you are."

"It was my favorite class," Quinn responds as she finishes writing the word, not really knowing why she's sharing any of this with Rachel.

"Oh, I think I know five down!" Rachel almost squeals excitedly, stealing the pencil again and yanking the paper away from Quinn. They end up staying in the kitchen until they almost finish the crossword.

* * *

><p>Quinn is putting away a tray of food from one of the patient rooms when her boss calls her over. It's Monday, and the nursing home is busy with families visiting. Her shift is almost done and she honestly can't stop staring at the clock on the wall. Sam isn't at work and it literally made the day feel twice as long as it normally does.<p>

"Are you busy?" Her boss asks. She's about to say yes when he cuts her off. "No? Good."

He picks up a paper bag with a stuffed animal inside and hands it to her.

"I know your shift is almost ending but I need a favor," Her boss continues. "Can you take this to the hospital? Mrs. Fisher was rushed there this morning and I guess they forgot to take this with her. She can't sleep without it."

Quinn purses her lips. Mrs. Fisher is possibly the kindest old lady anyone will ever meet in the world. Although the hospital is far away, it is on the way to Santana's house and Santana is going to pick her up. It really isn't a big deal.

"I'll pay you an extra hour," Her boss says finally.

It really,_ really_ isn't a big deal.

"I'll take care of it," Quinn responds with a small smile, bringing the bag closer.

* * *

><p>"I'll be quick," Quinn calls out as she jumps out of Santana's practically still moving car. She doesn't hear Santana complaining because the automatic doors close behind her. She hasn't been back since her accident and the hospital feels just as strange to her. She runs up to the information desk to ask for Mrs. Fisher's room number.<p>

Quinn makes her way to the elevators and she curses whoever is taking forever on the fourth floor. That's when her eyes wander off to the courtyard garden, where Rachel Berry is wearing her purple volunteer's uniform covered with her pins and sitting next to an older lady who is obviously weeping. She has her arm around the old lady's shoulder and her other hand is holding the other woman's hand.

"Are you going up?"

The question snaps Quinn's attention back to the elevator, where a nurse is holding the door open for her. She nods dumbly, taking one more look at the courtyard before stepping into the elevator.


	6. Chapter 6

"I think I will do it," Quinn announces as she walks into Angie's office. Angie looks up from her desk and watches Quinn sit down in front of her. She's fifteen minutes early, but Angie doesn't really mind anymore.

"It being…?" Angie trails off, smiling at Quinn's hesitant enthusiasm.

"Art class," Quinn says quietly. "I want to take art class next year."

"Wonderful," Angie replies with a smile, not missing Quinn's slightly surprised look. "I'll send the school counselor an email and you can go ahead and coordinate it with your school schedule.

"Really?" Quinn asks. "It'll be that easy?"

Angie laughs.

"I wasn't planning on convincing you to take art only to tell you that you can't do it after all, Quinn. You will definitely be able to take it next year," Angie finishes, writing a reminder on a post it note and sticking it on her monitor.

"Thank you."

"It really is no big deal," Angie waves it off, taking her reading glasses off.

Quinn hesitates for a second before saying something again.

"I think," She pauses, thinking of how to word this exactly. "I think I want to volunteer too. At the hospital, I mean."

* * *

><p>Quinn finishes her newspaper round with Mrs. Harley two hours after showing up for her first volunteering shift. It's been two days since she told Angie she wanted to volunteer and she's surprised at how easy it is for her to start volunteering. She was immediately put on newspaper duty, a job the volunteering manager calls 'introduction to volunteering,' claiming that it should help new volunteers learn the layout of the confusing hospital. After spending time walking around with Mrs. Harley and placing newspapers at certain locations throughout the hospital, Quinn couldn't agree more. The hospital is huge, almost twice the size of the nursing home she works at.<p>

"How was it?" Her manager, Patricia asks her excitedly as she walks back into the volunteer office. Patricia gets up from her desk and puts an arm around her shoulder. It surprises Quinn that she doesn't find the touch weird. Maybe it's because Patricia is motherly and kind and just positively passionate about her job and volunteering.

"It was interesting," Quinn replies with a small smile. "This hospital is pretty big."

"Oh, definitely. I'll give you a map to help you out," Patricia says as she walks to a cabinet and grabs a map for Quinn. "Now tell me, how many hours a week would you like to volunteer?"

"Oh," Quinn pauses, she hasn't really thought this through. "Is eight enough?"

"It's more than enough," Patricia tells her with her one thousand kilowatt smile. "You'll get a free lunch every day that you volunteer and we always have snacks and drinks down here for you. Is there any particular department that you're interested in?"

"Not really," Quinn responds after thinking about it for a little bit. Although there is one department she doesn't want to be anywhere near.

"Okay, well I have two places that really need volunteers. One of the nursing floors and the gastrointestinal or GI lab," Patricia starts rattling off while she looks through her list. "You can do both, if you'd like, and decide which one on which day."

Quinn really has no idea what any of this means.

"Sure," She says, trying not to look as lost as she actually is.

"Wonderful," Patricia lets out, writing several things down on her chart. "I have the perfect volunteer who can train you and kind of show you the ropes."

Before Quinn can ask who it is, a voice by the door answers her question.

"You called for me?"

Quinn closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before turning around. Of course.

"Quinn!" Rachel lets out with a hint of surprise.

"Hi," Quinn mumbles, pursing her lips and waving awkwardly.

* * *

><p>"So, here is the nurse station," Rachel says like she's leading a tour group, motioning to the nurse station to her left. "This is where you will report to every shift after clocking in at the volunteer's office. They're a really lively bunch." Rachel waves to a couple nurses before picking up a binder on the counter.<p>

"Your job will be to answer the call lights and respond accordingly. You'll either do the task yourself, like getting warm blankets or a cup of water, or call the nurse or technician, whichever one the situation calls for," Rachel continues as she walks down the hallway. "Oh, and just visit the patients and talk to them. They like seeing the volunteers because they know we're not going to poke them with needles and medication."

Quinn nods. It all seems simple enough. Rachel drags her to the GI lab after walking around the floor and speaking to all the residents. They're in a big lobby and Quinn notices a desk by the wall.

"This is a little different," Rachel begins to elaborate, waving to the lady behind the desk and introducing Quinn.

"Your job will be to help patients sign in, alert the GI or surgery staff that the patient is here, lead them to their prep rooms and keep track of their family members."

"Keep track?"

"Yes, basically, you make note of what articles of clothing they have on and where they are situated. The staff will update you with the procedures and you, in turn, will keep everyone updated," Rachel explains with a smile. She walks over to the main desk and Quinn follows suit. She remembers how she originally planned on spending as much time possible not volunteering with Rachel. She absentmindedly answers Rachel's question about her volunteering hours.

"I'll be here when you're volunteering," Rachel tells her with a smile. Quinn smiles a little in return. She really is doing a crappy job of spending as little time with Berry as possible.

* * *

><p>Quinn goes to work the next day and finds the other servers putting together a cake.<p>

"It's Maurice's birthday," Sam lets her know when she asks him what's going on. There's a small round cake on the table with one candle in the middle.

A little while later, they take a break in the middle of brunch and Maurice's granddaughter brings the cake slowly to his table. Quinn tucks her tray under her arm and starts singing happy birthday with the rest of the people in the room. Maurice encounters some issues blowing out the candles and Quinn hides her smile. She catches Sam's eye from across the room and laughs.

"Darned candle," Maurice lets out when he finally extinguishes the flame. Everyone laughs and claps and Quinn is immediately attacked with requests for the cake.

"Pretty good cake, huh?" Sam mumbles with a full mouth once she sits down next to him. She nods, taking her first bite of the cake. It is good.

"This is pretty good," Quinn says.

"I made it," Sam lets her know proudly, smiling a ridiculous grin. Quinn raises an eyebrow.

"What? I did, I swear!" Sam protests. "I got the recipe from my mom."

"Okay," Quinn lets out with a disbelieving tone, taking more of the cake. Sam's still frowning so she laughs and nudges him with her shoulder.

"I kid, I kid," Quinn laughs.

* * *

><p>Life's kind of funny sometimes. And weird. And too real.<p>

Three days after they celebrate Maurice's birthday, he passes away.

The home is somber that day and Quinn can't quite convince herself to go to bingo when she knows no one is going to berate her for getting a bingo.

* * *

><p>That Saturday, she wakes up fairly early and finds a note on the fridge from her mom about a weekend long real estate conference in Columbus. She stares at the note for a couple minutes before pulling the fridge door open and looking for the milk. They still haven't really had a decent conversation since that little encounter.<p>

She sits quietly and watches some cartoons with her bowl of cereal. It really is annoying how quiet her house is. That's when she gets an idea. She gets up and successfully makes her way up to the attic. She knows it should be in there somewhere…

"Aha," She says to herself when she finds her sister's old turntable behind some old dance trophies. With some arm muscle and a lot of dust in her eyes, she manages to bring down the turntable, the speakers and some of the old records down to her the hallway. She stares at the pile before realizing that she doesn't really know how to put any of it together.

She gets a text from Santana asking her what she's doing for the day and she gets an idea.

"You're kidding me," Santana whines.

"Do I sound like I'm kidding?" Quinn rolls her eyes.

"No," Santana relents. Quinn can hear the TV in the background.

"Come on," She says into the phone receiver. "It's not like you had anything planned today."

She hears Santana sigh in defeat.

"Fine, fine. But I get to double dip."

* * *

><p>"Quinn!" Sam's sister screams the moment Quinn opens the door. She's engulfed by hugs in a split second and she can't help but start laughing.<p>

"Hey you two," She manages to mumble with the two pairs of arms hugging her tight. "Miss me much?"

"Yeah!" Sandy, Sam's little sister says enthusiastically as she pulls away. "I got another one!" She points to her missing front tooth.

"Wow, you're keeping the tooth fairy really busy," Quinn tells her as she inspects her missing tooth.

"I'm going to get one!" Sean, Sam's little brother, exclaims next to her, pulling his lip to show her. Quinn laughs.

"Really, guys?" Quinn looks up and finds Sam walking over with a couple of shopping bags. "The first thing you do when you see Quinn is show her your missing teeth?"

"But she has to see them!"

"Yeah"

Quinn laughs, taking one of the shopping bags from Sam.

"Yeah, Sam," Quinn mimics Sean, giving him a face. Sam laughs, picking up Sandy and walking into the house. The set the food down on the counter and start taking the food out.

"You guys want to set the table in the back?" Quinn asks Sean and Sandy, handing them paper plates and plastic utensils. The two of them nod feverishly, taking the utensils and running out the back door. Quinn watches them go with a small smile on her face.

"I invited Mike, I hope you don't mind," Sam mumbles quietly. "Tina's out of town and he's bored. He said he'd bring some dessert."

Quinn doesn't really care. They probably need all the help eating the food anyways.

"Sure, that's not going to be a problem," Quinn replies, taking some burger patties out of the bag. "I invited Santana anyways."

"It's like an ex-girlfriend party," Sam laughs nervously. "I hope she doesn't poison me."

Quinn laughs quietly, reaching out for the bag of chips that Sam is handing him.

"You sure she's the one you should be worried about?"

Sam narrows his eyes, pulling the bag of chips back and holding it close to his body.

"Good point."

The doorbell rings and they both look at the door.

"She's here?" Sam asks and Quinn hears him gulp nervously. She laughs.

"Santana would just come barreling through the door, so I'm going to say no."

* * *

><p>"Quinn! Trouty mouth! Your mini-mes are attacking me!"<p>

Quinn looks over and finds Santana attempting to walk with two kids clinging on to both of her legs. She starts laughing hysterically, and Sam and Mike follow suit. The kids are laughing and telling Santana to go faster and she looks like she's a second away from killing the trio laughing by the grill.

"Stop laughing!" She narrows her eyes. "I hate you all."

"But Santana," Sandy starts with a pout, looking up at the older girl. "You don't like playing with us?"

Santana opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out. She exhales hard after and manages to crack what almost resembles a smile.

"I'm kidding sweetie," Santana says to the kids hugging her legs, moving around more and swearing she's going deaf from all the screaming.

After the kids decide it's time to hop off the 'Tanny express,' Quinn calls everyone over to the table for food. She ends up sandwiched between Sandy and Sean on the picnic table and across from them are Mike, Santana and Sam. At some point, Santana starts vehemently arguing with the two boys about some violent game that they all know Santana not-so-secretly plays.

"I've played this game a million times," Mike starts saying as he draws tactics with his mustard. Santana shakes her head dangerously.

"And I'm sayin', you've played it wrong a million times," She retorts before yanking the mustard away and drawing her own diagram. Quinn silently watches the three of them. She knows Santana would rather set herself on fire than admit that she's having fun.

"What are they doing?" Sandy whispers, trying to look from their side of the table.

"That's a good question, Sandy," Quinn muses, putting together Sean's plate. The little boy thanks her and grabs the plate. "We need some music to drown all this arguing out."

And that's when she remembers.

"Any of you know how to put together a turntable sound system?"

* * *

><p>Surprisingly, it's Santana who knows how to do it. She bosses Mike around to help her, but the little kids jump at the chance to help put together something for Quinn. They bring it down to the living room and start working on it while Sam and Quinn clean up.<p>

Quinn frowns when she picks up a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies.

"Maurice liked those," Sam comments quietly, reading Quinn's thoughts. Quinn purses her lips and brings the plate inside.

"He sure did," She says fondly, remembering the last bingo game they both played with Maurice. She lost all her cookies that day.

"Life's kinda short, huh?" Sam muses as he washes the grilling utensils. Quinn finds herself nodding, eyeing the sticky note on her fridge.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'll be honest here: (a) I'm a med school student in the middle of rotations and I basically have zero time to do absolutely anything with my life (and yet here I am, churning out these chapters like a boss). (b) when I started writing this story, it all began with a scene two years from where it is now and went from there. I later realized that I should work backwards because I have to set some groundwork. I'm constantly writing snippets from this point and several points in the future. And it's incredibly dizzying to write from a high school student's point of view.

That being said, don't be surprised if my updates slow down drastically.

enjoy?

* * *

><p>Two weeks pass and the cold war has started chipping away. Kind of. Quinn and her mom start speaking again after her mom's trip to Columbus, awkwardly acknowledging each other around the house. It's not much, but it's a start.<p>

Quinn is looking at vegetables at the local grocery store when a shrilly voice calls out to her from behind. She turns and sees one of her mother's friends from work.

"Quinn, honey," The lady, whose name Quinn cannot remember to save her life, starts excitedly, rolling her cart to the girl. "Why, I haven't seen your pretty face in forever."

"I've been busy," Quinn responds with a smile. She's a pro at this. "How have you been? How is the mister?"

"Oh, you know how Mr. Johnson is," The lady trails off as Quinn mentally pats herself on the back for figuring out this lady's name.

"Ah yes, I do know how your husband is, Mrs. Johnson," She says with her 'society' voice. She laughs a little, facetiously checking her wristwatch. "I'm sorry, but I really have to get going."

"Oh don't let me keep you," Mrs. Johnson continues. "I just wanted to say hi and to let you know that we need a new intern in the office."

She winks at Quinn and she feels slightly disturbed. She doesn't exactly know if it's the prospect of interning at a real estate office or this lady's sad attempt at winking that does it.

"It'll be a good way to learn the ropes, don't you think so?" Mrs. Johnson asks her with a cheeky grin and Quinn feels her fake smile faltering for a split second.

"Of course," She responds. "I'll check with my mom."

"Please do, we'd love to have you Quinn," Mrs. Johnson half screams as she starts walking away. "You'd fit right in!"

* * *

><p>Her mom mentions the internship when she gets home and Quinn nods, saying something along the lines of checking her schedule. Her mom mentions that if she does well enough, she could probably get a job with the firm directly after high school.<p>

Quinn gets a sick feeling in her stomach but she ignores it.

* * *

><p>"We're in luck," Rachel practically attacks her as she walks into the hospital a week after the grocery store encounter. "They have banana nut muffins in the cafeteria."<p>

Quinn's been eating lunch with Rachel every day that she's volunteering. She's given up on the whole avoid Rachel as much as possible agenda. Rachel has eyes and ears everywhere. So she comes half an hour early every time, eating and working on the crossword puzzle with Rachel. Sometimes her dad joins them, helping out with some words they can' get on the puzzle. Quinn will never admit it to anyone even if she's held at gunpoint, but she actually enjoys their lunch breaks.

"Really? Good thing I didn't eat breakfast," Quinn mumbles, walking to the stairwell and readying herself for the lecture she knows is coming.

"Quinn! What did I say about skipping meals?" Rachel is aghast, following her into the cafeteria. Quinn rolls her eyes.

"That I shouldn't," She starts, picking up two trays for her and Rachel. She subconsciously points to the chicken fettuccine for herself and then points to the vegan macaroni and cheese for Rachel.

"And yet you keep doing it," Rachel continues ranting, grabbing a bottle of water and a bottle of vitamin water. "You know, if you keep this up—"

"I know, I know," Quinn mumbles, picking up two banana nut muffins and making her way to the cashier. She puts Rachel's tray behind her and Rachel puts the water on her own tray and plops Quinn's vitamin water down on her tray. "I'll develop a complication with my stomach. Like Ulcer."

"Precisely," Rachel agrees, fishing out her food voucher. "I'm going to have to get my dad to speak to you at this point."

They make their way out to the courtyard after paying. Rachel has the newspaper tucked under her arm and Quinn is trying very hard to tune out her lecture about proper nutrition. They're in the middle of their meal when Quinn speaks up.

"Should I intern at the real estate firm my mom works at?" She asks, immediately regretting it after. She doesn't really know why she said that. She normally talks about these things with Santana. Or Angie. Or even Sam. But never with Rachel.

She's expecting Rachel to whip out a powerpoint presentation on her iPhone. Or at least a pamphlet about planning your future. Instead, she gets a quiet Rachel, musing about the answer. Rachel tilts her head and looks at her.

"Do you want to?"

Quinn is a little taken aback. She's never really thought about that part. She's never really thought about the possibility of her having options.

"Oh," She manages to say after a beat. "I haven't really thought about it that way."

Rachel snorts.

"How else would you think about it?" She asks, writing down a word on the crossword. "I mean, I know you were convinced that you'd be a real estate agent like your mom and Finn will take over Burt's garage or something and you'd be Lima's power couple, but ho—" Rachel freezes midsentence.

The only way this arrangement has worked for them is if they both pretended Finn didn't exist. He's never been mentioned before and Rachel is well aware of this.

Quinn purses her lips.

"I mean," Rachel starts but Quinn cuts her off.

"Actually, never mind that I said anything," Quinn says quietly, taking one last bite of her lunch. "I should get going."

"Quinn," Rachel calls out, watching the other girl pack up. She sighs when Quinn makes it clear that they're done for today.

"I think," Rachel continues and Quinn pretends to busy herself with packing up her lunch. "You are worth so much more than you give yourself credit for. You're more than just a pretty face Quinn."

"Thanks," Quinn mumbles awkwardly, not really up for belaboring the point. "I'll see you later."

She gets up and Rachel watches her leave.

* * *

><p>Quinn takes her post at the GI lab and carefully reads over the earlier volunteer's notes. A lady immediately comes up to her.<p>

"Do you have any news about Mr. Griffiths?" The lady asks, wringing her hands.

"The other volunteer didn't say anything, but I will double check for you, Mrs. Griffiths," Quinn responds with a small smile, picking up the phone next to her. She dials the number for the surgical unit and finds out that the patient is still in surgery. Mrs. Griffiths just nods quietly and goes back to her seat by the window.

Hours later, Quinn grabs a cup of coffee from the complimentary coffee table and notices that Mrs. Griffiths is still sitting in the same spot, anxiously wringing her hands. She's the only family member left in the waiting room. Quinn checks her list and sees that she's been here since her husband checked in, which was at 8 in the morning. That's almost ten hours ago.

She calls surgery again to get an update and all they tell her is that he's still in surgery. She stares at the list before getting up.

"Mrs. Griffiths?" She asks the lady as she approaches her.

"Yes?" The older lady looks at her, on the brink of tears and obviously doing everything to keep it together. She looks at Quinn expectantly and it breaks Quinn's heart to not have any updates for her.

"Would you like me to get you any food or anything to drink?" She offers. "Or maybe something to read?"

"No thank you dear," She responds. "I don't really need anything from the cafeteria."

Quinn nods.

She doesn't know what else to do at this point. She almost walks away but she doesn't.

"Would you like me to sit here with you?"

Mrs. Griffiths looks up at her like she's trying to comprehend what's happening. She smiles after a second.

"I would like that," She says quietly and Quinn sits down next to her. Quinn doesn't say anything. She just takes the older lady's hand and cradles it on her lap.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, the surgeon emerges from the double doors. She makes her way over to Quinn and Mrs. Griffiths.<p>

"Hi Mrs. Griffiths," the doctor greets her and gives her a hug. "Everything went well."

Mrs. Griffiths visibly relaxes and Quinn releases a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"Thank you Dr. Shen," Mrs. Griffiths says with a smile on her face.

"We found another tumor we didn't see in any of the scans. That's why it took so long," Dr. Shen explains. "It's your husband's lucky day."

Mrs. Griffiths nods, finally crying. Dr. Shen gives her a small smile and looks at Quinn, whose hand is turning white as Mrs. Griffiths is clutching it for life.

"It's all going to be okay from here on out," Dr. Shen tells her, putting a hand around her arm. "We're going to make sure he gets back in tip top shape in no time. I'm glad you had great company with you while you waited."

"Oh, Quinn's been great," Mrs. Griffiths says between sniffles, smiling at Quinn, who feels her face color.

"Why don't you go and gather your things and we can walk on over to Mr. Griffiths' recovery room," Dr. Shen suggests and Mrs. Griffiths nods. She excuses herself and goes to the bathroom and Quinn is left with the doctor.

It's quite intimidating. This is the first time she's ever been alone with a doctor in the hospital, not counting Dr. Berry. But it's also amazing how much impact this woman in scrubs has on people's lives. Quinn knows from her charts that Dr. Shen has been working a 28 hour shift and she can only marvel quietly.

"Thank you so much Quinn," Dr. Shen starts, addressing her by her name.

"Oh, no," Quinn says quietly. "I did nothing. You fixed it all."

Dr. Shen shakes her head.

"We're a team," She says with a smile. "And in the end, you and I are doing the same thing."

Quinn looks at her, not really following what she is saying. Dr. Shen looks at Mrs. Griffiths emerging from the bathroom and waves. She turns to Quinn again.

"Medicine is just service and compassion coupled with science. That's all there is to it."

* * *

><p>"Theoretically speaking, if I were to do something other than real estate, what would work?" Quinn asks as she catches up to Rachel, who just got into an empty elevator. Rachel holds on to the door open button and looks at her with a sincere smile.<p>

"Quinn," She starts. "You can do anything."

She doesn't know what it is, but she believes that Rachel Berry isn't kidding.

"Okay," She whispers. She cracks a smile after a second. "You think they'll have banana nut muffins again on Thursday?"

Rachel laughs.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," She responds with a shrug. Her eyes wander off to the clock behind them.

"I should probably stop blocking this elevator," Quinn says as she moves away.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I hate to meet with," Rachel hesitates. "With people."

"With Finn, who is your boyfriend," Quinn corrects her, smiling slightly to let her know it's okay.

Rachel nods after a moment of shock.

"Yes, with Finn."

"I'll see you later then," Quinn says with a wave.

"See you."

There's a ding from the elevator and Quinn says something again.

"Thanks, Rachel."

Rachel smiles at her.

"For what?"

* * *

><p>It isn't until a week later that Quinn finally entertains the idea of becoming someone else other than her mother.<p>

"You know, I've tried it before. And I hate to break it to you, but staring at the TV and willing it to turn on won't work," Santana says lazily, flipping through the pages of a magazine.

"Would you laugh at me if I told you that I wanted to be a doctor?" Quinn asks suddenly, not looking away from the screen. She doesn't see it but Santana makes a disbelieving face next to her.

"Why would I laugh? You're like, the smartest person I know," She says simply, flipping to the celebrity gossip section of the magazine. "Next to me, of course."

Quinn looks at her, a little surprised that Santana didn't burst out laughing at her admission.

"What kind of doctor do you wanna be?"

Quinn bites her lip. She hasn't really thought about that part yet.

"Um, I don't really know."

"Well," Santana starts without looking up. "You should consider plastic surgery or dermatology, and then give me awesome discounts when we're old and wrinkly."

Quinn laughs.


	8. Chapter 8

"What was that Quinn?" Angie asks.

"What do I need to do if I want to become a doctor?" Quinn repeats, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear subconsciously.

"Oh, what kind of doctor?" Angie asks her excitedly, pulling a book from her bookshelf. Quinn still hasn't really thought about that part yet. But she has some ideas milling about in her head.

"I don't really know," She starts, sitting up straight. Words start spilling out of her mouth before she can stop it. "Maybe trauma? Or surgery? And I really like neuroscience."

"Those are very exciting fields," Angie starts as she flips her book open. "This is going to be great. I love career planning and making tables and charts!"

Quinn laughs.

"What?" Angie asks.

"It's nothing, you just reminded me of someone right there," Quinn explains, waving her hands to clear any offense. "So, how exactly do I do this?"

* * *

><p>She comes home that night with pamphlets and college brochures to maybe show to her mom. Quinn gives herself a pep talk, telling herself not to take it personally if her mom laughs in her face.<p>

They never really touched on the subject of college before. Back when the tyrant known as her father still ruled their lives, Quinn was expected to follow her mom and her sister's footsteps: Go to a nice Christian college, major in something borderline useless and meet a nice, young Christian man who can take care of her.

It's sickening now that she thinks of it.

Her sister Frannie, ever the perfect daughter, followed that recipe to a tee. Asides from annual Christmas cards, she hasn't really seen Frannie in years. Her wonderfully Christian husband is pretty much her father without the receding hairline and Quinn can only hope that her sister isn't well on her way to leading a life much like their mother's.

A step on the stairs creeks and Quinn remembers her current mission. Her resolve gets stronger with every step she takes and she takes a deep breath before pushing her mom's slightly ajar door open. There, she finds her mom passed out on her bed with a glass and bottle of wine on her bedside table. This is the fourth night in a row.

Quinn quietly shuts the door again and puts the pamphlets on her desk. Then, she turns right around and heads to the kitchen to cook dinner for herself.

* * *

><p>The next day, Quinn feels like such a spy, closely observing the doctors in the hospital and the nursing home. She's suddenly aware of all the small things they do; it boggles her that she never noticed before.<p>

"Quinn! You're not paying attention," Rachel huffs, waving the newspaper in front of her face. Quinn snaps out of it and looks at her.

"Oh, sorry," She mumbles, blinking twice. "What did you say?"

"I said, my dad wants to know if you would like to shadow him at work," Rachel repeats, biting into her sandwich. Quinn purses her lips, thinking about the concept of following Dr. Berry around the hospital. It's really weird. She's only told Santana, Angie and Rachel about her sudden career revelations and their reactions have been entertaining to say the least. Santana keeps trying to convince her that she needs to be a plastic surgeon so that she can have a personal surgeon in case she needs an emergency nose lift or something. Angie helped her put together a plan for senior year and college applications, giving her resources for picking the correct major and university.

But Rachel is another story.

She's been so enthusiastic, it's almost dizzying. Something about her dad secretly wanting her to follow in his footsteps.

"And I can accompany you! In case I ever need to portray a doctor in one of my future movies or shows," Rachel adds with fervent enthusiasm and Quinn literally laughs out loud and chucks at carrot stick in her direction.

It's not something she's going to admit anytime soon, but it's kind of nice. It's like having three personal cheerleaders.

* * *

><p>Later than night, Quinn hears her mom's car pull up the driveway. She's in the middle of looking through Angie's pamphlets when her mom walks in and she's visibly drunk.<p>

"Hi Quinnie, what are you doing over there?" She slurs out, throwing her purse on the couch and walking over to the stairs. Quinn shoots up from her spot and grabs her mom, scared that she'll fall over and break her neck or something.

"You drove?" She asks, not even bothering to hide her anger. She's seeing red at this point. "Mom, you're drunk!"

"Noooo," Her mom singsongs, tapping Quinn's nose.

Quinn shakes her head, helping her mom up.

"Let's go mom," She says as she moves her closer to the stairs. "Let's get you ready for bed."

* * *

><p>After taking care of her mom the entire night and spending zero hours sleeping that night, Quinn quietly leaves her house. She leaves a note for her mom even though she's pretty sure she's not waking up anytime soon. Half an hour later, she finds herself sitting on a bench outside of Angie's office. A familiar car parks a couple of spots away from her and Angie steps out and immediately makes her way to Quinn.<p>

Quinn smiles a half smile and waves her hand weakly.

"Quinn, are you okay?" Angie asks with a worried tone, sitting down next to Quinn and setting her bag down next to her.

"Angie, I don't know what to do," Quinn says quietly.

* * *

><p>"Mom?"<p>

Her mom closes the fridge door and looks up at her, a glass of wine in her hand.

"Yes, dear?"

Quinn swallows hard and wills herself to step closer to her mother. She takes a deep breath and slides the pamphlet on the counter, looking at her mother directly in the eyes.

"I'm going to try…No, I've been trying. And it's hard. But.." She trails off, not used to having these kinds of conversations in this house. Or anywhere with anyone for that matter.

Her mom just stares at the pamphlet, reading the words carefully.

"I want you to try too. And not for me," Quinn adds. She quietly waits for the words to sink in, scared shitless but determined nonetheless.

"I don't need this."

"Mom-"

"How dare you tell me what to do," Her mother looks like someone just slapped her.

"You have no idea, no clue how horrible everything is. You're eighteen…practically a child," her mom says through gritted teeth, turning around with her wine glass in tow, heading straight up to her room.

"I'm young, I know," Quinn says in quiet defiance and her mom stops before making it out of the kitchen. "I don't know everything about the world. I've screwed up left and right. And until recently, I honestly believed that my life is nothing but a dead end. But mom, I do know that you're so much better than this. More than that glass of wine. We're both worth so much more than what dad made us out to be."

Her mom doesn't say anything and Quinn takes a deep breath.

"Mom, you're all I have," she tells her quietly.

Quinn watches as her mom seems to have an internal debate. She starts walking away, leaving Quinn alone in the kitchen. After she hears her mother's door slam, Quinn releases the breath she didn't even know she was holding.

* * *

><p>Her mom avoids her for the rest of the day. She goes to work and she knows she looks like a zombie from not getting any sleep.<p>

"Quinn, you don't look so good," Sam says when she walks into the locker room. It's the end of his shift and the beginning of hers.

"I didn't get a lot of sleep," Quinn tells him quietly, popping her locker open. She can feel Sam watching her.

"You okay?" He asks her with a worried look on his face. Quinn doesn't say anything back and Sam puts a hand on her arm.

"Hey," he says softly. Quinn finally looks at him and she's tearing up. She shakes head and looks down.

"Hey," Sam repeats. "Why don't I take over your shift? I'll tell boss you're not feeling well. And if it's okay with you, we can call Santana to pick you up."

She wants to disagree because she knows he's tired but she really has nothing left in her to do so. So she nods and Sam gives her a small smile before walking out to talk to their boss.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Santana walks into the break room.<p>

"How'd you get in here?" Quinn asks with a raised eyebrow. Santana rolls her eyes, waving her question off. As if to say, 'duh, I'm Santana Lopez."

"Ready to go?" Santana responds quietly, nodding her head towards the door with a slight smile on her face. Quinn nods and gets up, walking out of the locker room. They both say bye to Sam, who is currently setting up for lunch, and then head straight to the parking lot.

"You look like a zombie," Santana comments as she unlocks her car. "How many hours did you sleep last night?"

Quinn slightly scoffs.

"I didn't," She says quietly. She gets a slight shove from an appalled Santana.

"Girl, you gotta take care of yourself," She starts. "How you gonn be my plastic surgeon on call."

Quinn actually laughs before putting her hands against her face and taking her deep breath. She feels a hand on her arm.

"Hey," Santana says softly. Quinn looks up at her before sinking into her seat.

"My parents are alcoholics," She blurts out quietly. She's never really said any of this out loud. She always thought that actually saying the words would make it real. But she doesn't think it can get any more real than this.

Santana just looks at her and waits for her to continue.

"I don't think I've ever seen either my mom or my dad without an alcoholic drink nearby," Quinn thinks about it and it's true. It's very rare that one of her parents isn't within a ten foot radius of anything alcoholic.

"I used to just pretend it isn't there, that it isn't really a big deal…but it is. My mom drove the other night and she was seriously drunk. I don't even want to imagine what could have happened…"

She trails off, telling herself not to imagine.

"She's all I have left San," Quinn says quietly. "And she got really mad at me when I tried to get her help."

She doesn't look at Santana. She just leans her head against the car window and closes her eyes.

"I don't know what to do."

Santana doesn't say anything for a while and they sit in silence like that for several minutes.

"You know," Santana starts slowly. "Your mom probably just needs time. It's rough, but she'll see what you're tryin to do. I'm telling you. Give her some time."

Quinn opens her eyes and turns her head to look at Santana.

"And your dad may have bailed on you, but she's not all that you have left in your life," Santana adds, gesturing to her face. Quinn makes a face. "Please, how sad would your life be without this hot piece of awesomeness."

Quinn laughs.

* * *

><p>Quinn's house is pretty dark when she gets there. She tiptoes up to her mom's room and double checks to see if she's in there. And she is. She's on her bed and that's enough for Quinn to know that she isn't driving drunk again.<p>

She sleeps for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>"Quinn, I need a ride."<p>

Her mom's voice echoes from the upstairs.

Quinn's been up for about an hour now, eating cereal and watching some stupid wedding dress show on TV. She makes her way to the garage, starting the car and waiting for her mother to get in.

"Bingo?" Quinn asks tentatively, not really having had a moment alone with her mom since their AA-kitchen encounter. When her mom doesn't say anything back, Quinn takes it as a yes with a side of silent treatment. She's turning onto the main street when her mom finally says something.

"Actually," She starts slowly. "I need to go to Morris."

Quinn just nods and doesn't say anything, assuming her mom is going to a friend's house the town over. She notices flashing lights and slows down as the gates close and a train rushes through in front of them.

"The AA meeting starts in a thirty minutes," her mom adds quietly, looking down at her lap. Quinn looks over and sees that her mom is wringing her hands. It's something she does when she's uncomfortable and scared.

"Mom…"Quinn starts and her mom shakes her head. She looks up at Quinn.

"You're right Quinn," Her mom tells her, looking back out of the window. "It's been rough. My life with your father was a period in my life I would never ever revisit no matter the amount of money you give me. You and Frannie got me through it. And the alcohol made everything bearable. I know that we're finally free…"

Her mom smiles to herself as she looks out her window.

"But it's hard to snap out of it. It's like I've been sleeping my entire life and I've forgotten how to use my arms and legs."

Her mom leans her head on her window and closes her eyes.

"But you're right. This isn't a way to live."

After a minute, she opens her eyes and turns her head to look at Quinn with a small smile on her face.

"And I'm glad you understand that your life is far from being a dead end. Honey, it's barely started."

She reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind Quinn's ear.

"You're growing up so quickly," She says with a sad smile. "I remember when you came home after your first day of kindergarten waving a drawing that you made up in the air. It was a finger painting of what you insisted was our house. Except a majority of the paint ended up in your hair and your clothes."

She laughs at the memory of it.

"And now you're this wonderful young woman helping her mother get her act together."

"Mom, you're not—"

"Oh, but I am," Her mom tells her. "But I have you, so that will make this easier."

Quinn nods with a small smile.

"And you have me. I know I haven't been a great mom lately…but I'm going to be there for you," Her mom adds, just as the last train car speeds past them and the gate starts rising back up. Quinn nods again, telling herself not to cry.

"So, darling daughter of mine," Her mom says. "Tell me what has been going on with your life lately? You're always running in and out of the house."

"Well," Quinn starts, excited to share everything with her mother, finally. She steps on the accelerator slowly and looks at her mom briefly. "I think I know what I want to be when I grow up."

She talks animatedly for the rest of the drive and her mom listens with undivided attention.


	9. Chapter 9

The rest of the summer literally flies by. Her mom attends her regular AA meetings and Quinn drives her to and from every single one of them. They always get dinner and hot chocolate from a local diner in Morris before heading back home and it's kind of nice to just sit down and relax with her mom.

She's brought her mom up to speed with the current happenings of her life: Angie, her job, volunteering and her quiet aspirations of becoming a doctor. Her mom doesn't laugh at all at her admission. Instead, she sheepishly tells Quinn that she wanted to be nurse when she was younger and her father didn't support her. Her mom doesn't like the concept of Quinn talking to a social worker right away, but after Quinn introduces Angie to her mom, things start looking up. It helps that Angie is so supportive and helpful with college and scholarship stuff.

Her car situation doesn't ever really fix itself, but that's okay. Between her mom, Sam and Santana she doesn't really need a car of her own.

In fact, there are even times when they end up fighting over who's going to drive her around. Like today.

* * *

><p>"Do you need a ride tomorrow?" Sam suddenly asks, looking at Quinn right next to him.<p>

"What's tomorrow?" Santana chimes in before screaming at Mike Chang. The four of them are hanging out in Quinn's basement, utilizing Quinn's ridiculously large TV to play video games. Well, the three of them are playing and Quinn is working on her 'dorky' crossword puzzle.

Quinn and Sam both look at Santana with incredulous looks on their faces.

"…The first day of school," Quinn says slowly and Mike and Sam try not to laugh. Santana looks at her like she's trying to comprehend what she just said. Then it clicks.

"Oh, crap," She says out loud. "That's right."

Sam laughs.

"Wow San, senioritis before we're even seniors," Sam jokes, earning a punch from Santana.

"Shut it, Bieber," She scolds him before turning to Quinn. "You're getting a ride from me." There isn't even a question being posed here. Santana looks back at Sam.

"Don't you have to drop off mini Sam and mini Quinn anyways? It's like, their first day of real school. For like, ever. Isn't it?"

Sam just stares at Santana.

"…Yeah. How do you even know that?"He asks. Santana just scoffs.

"Please," She waves it off and turns her attention back to the game. Sam just scratches his head and looks sideways at Quinn. Quinn laughs, because sometimes it's hard to believe that these two actually dated. And although that was a complete bust, they're doing pretty great as friends now (or bros, as Santana calls it). The only reminder that they have about their dating history is Sam occasionally singing Santana's magnum opus 'Trouty Mouth' and that's always a riot.

"Well you did tell us how excited you are to make them dinosaur shaped pb&j sandwiches," Mike chimes in and Santana laughs. It's nice that Mike hangs out with them once in a while. He manages to keep up with Santana in Call of Duty and Sam appreciates his 'testosterone in a sea of estrogen.' He's actually pretty cool and Quinn's glad that she's getting to know him more outside of glee club.

"They're really cool sandwich cutters!" Sam says with a slightly offended tone, defending his 'awesome' dinosaur sandwich molds.

"They are cool," Quinn explains with all seriousness, putting her hands up. "He makes them for lunch at work. I kind of want one too."

Santana and Mike burst out laughing.

* * *

><p>Quinn's first day of art class is a little nerve wrecking. She's never really tried to take a formal art class before and she's definitely never had anyone look at and judge her serious art work. She's hoping this class will be a nice change from her ridiculous Advanced Placement class laden schedule. She comes in early, like she always does for every class, and sits off to the side quietly. Santana walks in a minute later and she immediately plops down next to Quinn.<p>

"I has a problem," Santana starts as soon as she sits down. Quinn knits her eyebrows together at Santana's hushed tone.

"You didn't kill anyone did you?" She asks, half serious.

"Wha—no! Why is that always everyone's first response?" Santana lets out an appalled sound, looking at her with her mouth slightly open. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Anyhow, homicidal thoughts aside, Coach Sylvester cornered me."

Santana looks at her expectantly.

"Is she still mad about you abusing your tanning privileges long after they were overdue?" Quinn muses.

"Okay, a, I wasn't abusing, I was just taking my time saying goodbye to those lovely tanning beds and b, that wasn't what she wanted to talk to me about."

"What'd she say then?"

"She needs cheerleaders. Everyone's quitting on her and she's running for a congressional seat so she doesn't really want to look like a bad coach," Santana explains as people start filing into the room.

"She wants you to join the Cheerios again?" Quinn asks quietly, suddenly realizing what's going on here.

"Yeah," Santana says and Quinn can't really read her reaction. "Brittany already said yes."

There it is.

"Oh," Quinn says slowly. "Is she still with Artie?"

Santana frowns but doesn't say anything. Quinn takes that as a yes and sighs.

* * *

><p>"Why don't you just try and be friends with her again?" Quinn suggests off handedly while they're both getting ready for gym class. It's been three weeks since school started and not much progress has been made with the Brittany situation. Santana's been very good at keeping Brittany at bay while keeping her close at the same time. "She told me she just wants everything to be the same again."<p>

Santana doesn't look at her. She doesn't say anything either. Quinn just shrugs it off, finishing up with her gym shoes and getting up from the bench.

"She's so innocent," Santana says quietly, not getting up from the bench. They're alone in the locker room now and if they don't start moving anytime soon, they're both going to be late for roll call. But Quinn thinks that's out of the question.

"It's never going to be the same," Santana says with gritted teeth, tying her shoelaces harshly. "It's not that fucking easy."

Quinn sits back down next to her and she stares at the lockers. Santana's never going to talk to her about this. Not at this rate. They might be friends now, real friends, but this isn't something she's going to be able to talk to Quinn about.

And that really, really sucks.

"Hey," Quinn starts quietly. "Let's grab some ice cream after school. I promise not to make gagging noises when you order mint chocolate chip."

Santana looks up at her and rolls her eyes. There's a hint of a smile, but Santana's Santana so she's obviously not going to be jumping in joy and clapping her hands anytime soon.

"Fine, twist my arm," Santana mumbles, getting up and holding out an arm to help Quinn up.

They both end up running extra laps around the gym for being late to roll call.

* * *

><p>Walking into the local ice cream store, Quinn immediately spots Kurt and his boyfriend. What was his name? Dane? Wayne? Blaine?<p>

They end up peering over the ice cream together; pointing out which ones they want to try before picking a flavor.

"What are you getting?" Blaine asks Santana with a toothy grin. Santana gives him one side look before looking back at the ice cream.

"Mint chocolate," Santana says with a smirk before nodding her head towards Quinn. "Just because it grosses her out."

Kurt gasps next to Blaine.

"Blasphemy! It's the greatest ice cream concoction ever created!" he says with an appalled look on his face. Blaine nods.

"I'm going to have to agree with that. I would die without mint chocolate," Blaine offers.

"See?" Santana turns to look at Quinn. "Normal people. There's obviously something wrong with you."

Quinn just rolls her eyes.

While waiting for their ice cream, Blaine says something hilarious and Kurt laughs, nudging him from the side. Quinn admits that they're both pretty cool and she notices that Santana looks like she's laughing too.

Sitting at the round table with the three of them, Quinn notices Santana looking over at Blaine and Kurt whenever they're being all couple-y and in their own world. And then Quinn gets it.

She might not be the right person for Santana to talk to, but Kurt and Blaine…

"Excuse me," Quinn says suddenly, getting up and grabbing her purse. The three of them look at her in surprise.

"You okay there, Q?" Santana asks her.

"Yeah," Quinn replies, moving out of her little corner. "I just need to go to the bathroom really quick."

She waves it off and walks towards the bathroom. Once she's out of sight, she hurriedly takes out her phone and sends a text.

* * *

><p>She comes back to the table a few minutes later and she picks up her ice cream cup and joins in with their conversation. They're all raving about Breadstix and Santana's in the middle of recounting her wheelbarrow story when Quinn's phone goes off.<p>

"Hi mom," Quinn says into the speaker. She covers the receiver with her hands and shushes the three of them. Santana darts her tongue out and Blaine covers his mouth to stop himself from laughing at Santana's hilarious story.

"I'm just at the ice cream parlor," Quinn continues talking, ignoring the three of them who are making faces to try and make her laugh. "Oh, that was today? I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. I'll be right there."

Quinn puts the phone against her chest and looks at Santana.

"I forgot that I promised my mom that I'd go with her somewhere today," Quinn apologizes, looking around the table.

"You're so lame," Santana says with an eye roll. She laughs after a second. "Just kidding, have fun with your mom."

"It was nice seeing you again," Blaine tells her. "Even though it's almost shameful that you don't like mint chocolate.

"Yes Quinn," Kurt adds before she walks away from the table. "I did enjoy our little rendezvous, despite your dismal taste in ice cream."

"Rocky road will always be the best," Quinn says, defending her ice cream choice, before waving goodbye and walking out of the store. She takes one last look at Santana chatting with Kurt and Blaine before putting the phone back up against her ear.

"Thanks for doing that," She tells the other person on the line.

"_It really is no problem. I'm glad I was able to help you and practice my acting skills at the same time. Although, I still don't quite comprehend why I had to go and pretend to be your mother."_

Quinn rolls her eyes. Rachel didn't have to act like her mom, it's not like anyone would see her in the first place.

"It's a really long story."

"_You can always tell me in person. I do believe people still meet organically these days. And then we can work on our chemistry and biology lab reports together."_

Quinn thinks about it for a second before realizing that she actually has nothing better to do that night.

"Sure, let me go home and get my laptop."

* * *

><p>It's not until a week and a half later that Santana says anything remotely related to how she feels about Brittany. They're bumming around in Quinn's basement, watching the newest Jersey Shore episode when Santana opens her mouth to speak.<p>

"So, like…" She trails off, picking at the popcorn in front of her. Quinn lightly taps her hand and gives her a warning look.

"Stop playing with food," Quinn scolds her. Santana just rolls her eyes, dramatically dropping the popcorn back into the bowl and holding her hands up.

"Jesus, Q," She huffs. "I'm trying to be all serious here and your OCD or whatever is interrupting."

Quinn just raises an eyebrow before getting a handful of popcorn and looking back at the TV.

"Kurt and Blaine suggested the craziest idea the other day," Santana starts again, this time looking straight at the TV. "I mean, I talked to them, and stuff, about all these like feelings and shit."

"Mhmm," Quinn hums, urging her to continue. She doesn't know why, but she can literally feel her heart pounding in her throat. It's not like she's the one about to share one of the biggest revelations of her life in the room, but she's still anxious regardless. But she's a pro at this, so she keeps a calm and disinterested face. Because that's really how Santana rolls.

"I think," Santana hesitates. "No, I know that I like Brittany. And not like, in a biffles kind of way. But, in like, a 'she makes me happy and I'd kill for us to be like Jay-Z and Beyonce' kind of way."

Quinn actually snorts and Santana looks at her with a slightly offended look.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says between laughs. "I just can't believe you tried to tell me you have romantic feelings for Brittany by comparing you two to Jay-Z and Beyonce."

Santana's mouth opens in a shocked manner and she shoves the laughing Quinn aside.

"What?" She asks incredulously. "They're like the world's awesomest power couple. Britts and I can run the world like that."

Quinn calms down and settles back in her seat.

"Oh, trust me," she tells Santana, who's looking at her with an apprehensive expression. "I believe that you two can do just that."

She shakes her head and smiles before looking back at the TV.

"That's it?" Santana says in disbelief.

"What's it?" Quinn asks, looking at her with a confused look.

"That's all you have to say? No preaching about Jesus and God and sins and all that shit that they shove down people's throats at church?"

Quinn looks at her seriously before shrugging and smiling.

"San," She starts, lowering the volume on the TV. "I don't really know if I still believe in some of the things that I was taught growing up. I've been around so many people that continue to prove all those hateful words wrong: Kurt and Blaine, Rachel's dad…"

Quinn trails off, thinking of the exact words to say to get her point across.

"But why should I care about who you love and who makes you happy?" She smiles her small smile and Santana just stares at her. "You're still the same San who ran three red lights to get me from the hospital without asking any questions."

She can tell by the way that Santana's expression that she's still processing what she just said. Yeah, it's a roundabout way of saying that to Quinn, Santana's still the same person—one of her best friends—but that's how they work.

"Well good," Santana finally says, relaxing back into the couch. "Ima need a wingman or whatever."

Quinn smirks.

"I'd think twice about that," Quinn jokes. "I'm kind of hot."

Santana bursts out laughing.

"Bitch please," She tells Quinn with a raised eyebrow. She purses her lips and looks back at the TV.

"Except, like, I don't know if it's just Britts or if I'm actually like…"

Santana trails off hesitantly and Quinn doesn't look at her. Baby steps.

"You know, like that," she finally finishes off and Quinn nods.

"Did you talk to Kurt or Blaine?" Quinn asks innocently. "They'd probably be able to help you."

Santana shrugs.

"Yeah," Santana starts. "They're pretty cool and helpful. Except they had some bat-shit cray cray ideas."

"Like what?" Quinn asks before taking a sip of water.

"Like kissing Berry to see if I—ew, Q!" Santana screams as Quinn literally starts choking on the water and spews the water.

"Sorry," Quinn mumbles, reaching over the table to get a roll of paper towels.

"Contain that shit," Santana yells at her, wiping her arm. "Anyhow, I laughed at their idea. As if."

Quinn laughs.

* * *

><p>"Hey, about that thing I said," Santana says as she's about to leave Quinn's house later that night. "Can you like not mention it to, um, anyone?"<p>

"Or I'll cut you," She adds as an afterthought but Quinn knows she's kidding.

"Yeah, secret's safe with me," Quinn says as she rolls her eyes. Santana looks at her seriously and Quinn softens.

"I mean it San," She explains. "I got yo back, as you would say."

Santana visibly relaxes before crunching her eyebrows together.

"What was that? Don't talk like that again," She says incredulously. "You're so white sometimes, it's painful."

"Whatever," Quinn responds, shaking her head at her.

"Anyhow, I'll see you tomorrow," Santana mumbles. "Peace out."

"Night," Quinn replies.


	10. Chapter 10

When Santana rejects Rachel's proposed ideas for their Sectionals song list—in old Santana fashion, really, just to annoy Rachel and to point out that no one in their right mind would appreciate them covering a 'Ke-dollar sign-ha' song—Finn immediately jumps to defend Rachel and her misguided song list.

"Finn, seriously, are you gonna go up to that stage and tell people that you wake up in the morning feelin like P Diddy?" Santana asks with a scoff and Finn looks like he's constipated for a second. "Admit it, it's a fun song but not something that we should sing for Sectionals. The other songs are fine, we just need a third song or something. Calm down."

Finn looks at Rachel and then back at Santana.

"Why should we listen to you? Aren't you like back on the Cheerios? You could be sabotaging us again. Or worse, Coach Sylvester might have tricked Brittany over there into being a spy again or something and she doesn't even know it," He spits back.

Quinn feels Santana tense next to her and she knows none of this is going to end well. It all started earlier that week, when Santana laughed at the idea of Finn playing football for a state school in New York. Everyone knows it's so he can be close to Rachel, but Santana pointed out that his football team here hasn't exactly been winning as of recent. She should know—she's forced to cheer for them.

Santana narrows her eyes and Quinn looks at Sam, who looks like he's ready to spring up and restrain the other girl in the event that she decides to strangle Finn. Luckily, Mr. Schuester finally understands just how short Santana's fuse is—it only took four years—and steps in before Santana can break any necks.

* * *

><p>But obviously, the walls of the choir room can only keep tensions at bay for so long.<p>

Quinn's in the cafeteria helping Sam with his math homework when she hears Santana say something from across the lunch table. Both her and Sam look up to find Finn standing next to Santana.

"Look," Finn starts. "I don't know what your problem is, but I think that you should just set those aside and we should just try to work together for the sake of glee club. And if you want an apology, I'll give it to you just so we can all get along."

"Please, Finderella," Santana scoffs, getting up to look at Finn. "You think you're all that, big man on the field?"

Finn takes a sharp breath. Quinn looks at Santana and almost tells her that it's enough. That this stupid name calling competition that's going on between her and Finn over something so stupid has gone too far. But Santana keeps talking and her voice just gets louder.

"You don't even know if you and Berry are going to be together after high school," Santana continues. Quinn notices Rachel sitting at the other table visibly stiffen. "She's not going to pick you over Broadway."

When Finn doesn't say anything, Santana turns to sit back down. She stops midway when Finn starts speaking.

"At least I have the balls to go after the girl I love," Finn says with a firm voice. "You can't even suck it up and admit that you're in love with Brittany. You can't even come out of the closet for her."

The chattering in the cafeteria ends abruptly and all eyes turn to Santana.

Quinn almost gets up to slap Finn across the face. And next to her, she feels Sam tense and she knows he's this close to springing up and decking Finn in the face. She puts a hand on his arm to calm him down and he follows her gaze.

They both calm down. Because the look on Santana's face is beyond words. Quinn watches her, unsure if she's either going to break Finn's nuts or start screaming or both.

But Santana does nothing. She stares him down and it's enough to make Finn visibly shiver. He takes a step back, probably just realizing the close proximity of his entire body to Santana. He mumbles a sorry, rushing out of the cafeteria without so much as a second look at her. Quinn catches Rachel's worried look and the other girl looks from the door to Santana.

* * *

><p>Santana holds her head high for the rest of the day. She's hot, she's the head cheerleader and she has every damn right to walk through these halls. She's not going to apologize for who she is.<p>

At least, that's the message she's trying to send out to the general student population. And it works for the most part. She almost fools Quinn too.

"It'll be fine," Quinn tells her quietly while they're getting ready for gym. Santana wordlessly ties her shoelaces and nods.

* * *

><p>Except it's not fine.<p>

The whole thing goes to shit in 0.2 seconds. One minute it's a cafeteria spat between two kids and next thing you know, there's a congressional scandal and pictures of Santana in the news and on posters.

Sue Sylvester's opponent is claiming that she supports lesbians, since Santana is her head cheerleader, and that she herself is also lesbian.

But Quinn couldn't give two whopping fucks about Sue Sylvester's campaign. This is Santana's life.

* * *

><p>"What the hell are you doing in here Fabray?" Sue Sylvester yells out in surprise, nearly having an aneurism after Quinn jumps into the passenger side of her car.<p>

"Coach—" Quinn starts to say but Sue cuts her off.

"Only my cheerleaders can call me that," Sue says sharply. "Now get out. I have enough problems to deal with. I don't need you to fan the fire."

"Coach Sylvester," Quinn starts again, only more firmly this time. "I just need a couple minutes from you. Let me say what I have to say and I will be out of your hair."

Sue's mouth becomes so thin and she narrows her eyes at Quinn.

"Alright, but make it snappy. I have some damage control to do and some rabid chinchillas to drop off at Schuester's doorstep."

Quinn makes a face and opens her mouth to say something but stops once she realizes this is not really the time to be arguing about small furry animals and Mr. Schue.

"I know that you think your campaign has been ruined—"

"Ruined? It's completely destroyed!" Sue interrupts.

"Like I was saying, I know you think this whole thing has damaged your campaign irreparably," Quinn continues. "But I don't think so."

"Take this in stride," Quinn starts explaining before Sue can interject. "Our district may be Republican, but take a stand for people like Santana."

"You really think my voters are going to buy that?" Sue starts to scoff.

"No, for people who live in a constant struggle. Santana's such a great friend to me and it's frustrating that the world will only see her as a lesbian. It's a big part of her, but that's just it. It's a part of her. It doesn't define her."

Sue watches her closely.

"Are you lesbian?" She asks out of nowhere and it throws Quinn off guard.

"I—What? That's not the point here," Quinn shakes her head. "The point is people who are different—their lives are hell in small towns like Lima. Gays, Lesbians, minorities, people with special needs and people with disabilities—they're everywhere. And no one's representing them."

"Coach, I know you care about them," Quinn reasons, feeling her face flush from her conviction. "You understand that we don't have special ed classes at McKinley. That we didn't even have ramps and buses that could accommodate students like Artie. That healthcare costs are ballooning left and right."

Quinn stops, letting everything sink in. She really didn't plan this all the way. She didn't plan it at all. She was just on her way out of school when she saw Sue Sylvester walking to her car. And then she was jumping into the car, praying to God that her former coach didn't keep a shotgun in her backseat.

"Come out of the closet," She says finally. "And I don't mean anything about sexual orientation. I mean, come out and admit to how much you care about these people. I know you worry about Santana too. This is her life we're talking about. It ruined your campaign, but this might ruin her life."

Sue looks at her with narrowed eyes and it takes everything in Quinn to stare at her back.

"What happened to you Fabray?" She asks.

Quinn feels her resolve waver. She doesn't need another person reminding her of her picture perfect past.

"Head cheerleader to losing everything to this," Sue almost spits out the last part. Quinn clenches her teeth, reminding herself about her best friend who just had her life turned upside down.

"Yeah, to this," She responds, not once looking away from Sue.

Sue holds her gaze one more time, before nodding slowly and breaking into a half grimace half smile. She turns to her steering wheel and turns the keys. The confused look on Quinn's face must have given her away.

"I'd give you a ride but then I'd also be a pedophile," Sue tells her finally. It takes Quinn a second to process what was going on and she nods slowly, gathering her things. She opens the door and steps out.

"Quinn?"

Quinn turns to her.

"Tell Santana that I'm sorry she got pulled into all of this. And that as long as I'm Sue Sylvester, this won't ruin her life," Sue says seriously. "You're a good friend, kid."

* * *

><p>When she sees Santana walking with a steel baseball bat, she knows it's not because she's going to play baseball.<p>

"San!" She yells out, catching up to the girl. It's been a few hours since school ended and she knows that football practice is still in session.

"Get out of my way Q," Santana warns, walking with a murderous look on her face. Quinn puts a hand on her arm and stops in front of her.

"Are you insane?" Quinn reasons. "I know you're pissed as hell. I'm pissed as hell. But you can't be serious."

"I'm gonna beat the shit out of his pathetic truck," Santana spits out. "And then I'm gonna beat the crap out of that motherfucker. So let me go Q."

Santana stares at her hard, nostrils flared and making every attempt not to cry. Quinn's not going to admit it, but even she's scared of Santana right now. But she swallows hard and lets go of Santana.

"I'm not going to let you do this," She says with a determined voice. "You're better than his words, you're better than him and you're better than this whole town."

"San, you're above all of this crap and you and I are going to get the hell out of here."

Santana looks away, tightening her grip around her bat.

"I wanted to come out on my own terms," She starts saying through gritted teeth. And then she starts crying. "I wanted my parents to hear it from me. He ruined everything. I can't even go home."

"Then come home with me," Quinn says quietly. They hear a twig crack behind them and that's when they realize that Finn has been standing there, holding his bag and awkwardly watching them. Before Quinn can do anything, Santana's already marching towards him with her steel bat in tow.

Quinn blanks for a second before realizing what's happening and she tries to catch up to Santana.

But then, Santana stops right in front of Finn and throws the bat on the ground. Quinn stops a few feet behind her and watches as Santana, with tears running down her face, winds back and slugs Finn across the face. Finn literally staggers and falls back and for a second, and Quinn worries that Santana actually broke his jaw.

Santana watches him for a second before picking up her bat. She turns around and starts walking away, grabbing Quinn's hand and managing to hold it together until they're a few blocks from Quinn's house. That's when she breaks down and starts sobbing uncontrollably.


	11. Chapter 11

"How's she doing?" Sam asks her that night when he drops by, holding a bag and putting it down the kitchen counter. "I brought some ice cream and movies. I just thought she'll want to spend some time cooped up with you in that room."

"Thanks Sam," Quinn says quietly, taking the bag and sorting through it. "She's…I don't know. It's like a time bomb. I'm just waiting for her to really explode and tear Finn to pieces."

Sam nods, looking at the stairs.

"And I made some dinner. For you and your mom and Santana," Sam adds awkwardly. "I figured no one will have the time to cook."

Quinn smiles at the spaghetti and chicken packed in the Tupperware. She looks at him and gives him a smile.

"Come here, you big goof," She says, holding her arms out. Sam gives her a confused look but hugs her nonetheless.

"I wish I could help though," Sam says sadly when they break apart. "She must be so pissed. She needs to take it out on something. And not with a baseball bat."

Quinn nods, trying to think of something.

"I have an idea."

* * *

><p>"San?" Quinn calls out quietly, feeling weird that she's cautiously entering her own room.<p>

"Hmm?" Santana says, her voice coming from the other side of the bed. She's sitting on the floor with her back against Quinn's bed. Quinn sits down next to her, not saying anything in particular.

"You hungry?"

"Nah," Santana mumbles.

"Not even ice cream?" Quinn offers.

Santana doesn't say anything.

"Or we could watch a mo—"

"Q, I don't really wanna be around anyone right now," Santana cuts her off, slightly bitter tone not going unnoticed.

Quinn purses her lips, getting up after a second.

"Wait," Santana sighs. "Sorry, I'm being a massive bitch right now. I just—"

"No, you have to want to talk about this," Quinn says firmly, not looking at her. "We're not having this conversation until you're ready."

"Okay, hold the fuck up," Santana responds, getting up to meet her eye to eye. "Don't be throwing a hissy fit. You don't know what it's like."

"You're right, I don't," Quinn says back, facing her and looking directly at her. "But I want to listen. And I want to help. And I can't do that if you won't let me."

Santana clamps her mouth shut and looks down at her feet.

"Hey," Quinn says softly, her expression softening. She knows Santana's scared and angry and anxious and at a complete loss. And if there's anyone she can take it out on, it's her. "I get that you need some time to process your thoughts. When you're ready, come down and grab some food. And then shoot as many 'noobs' as you want because Sam brought his Xbox and a bunch of games for you. Your friends are going to be downstairs waiting for you."

* * *

><p>"Do you know how much money this industry is worth?" Sam starts rambling, plugging his Xbox into Quinn's TV.<p>

"Nope," Quinn responds, flipping through her wireless router's manual to find the passkey.

"Who gives a shit Justin Bieber? As long as Q over here has internet that's fast enough to keep up with me while I destroy bitches like a boss."

They both look up at Santana, who's standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding a plate of spaghetti.

Sam laughs.

"There you go again with all this 'ownage' you talk about," He calls out.

Quinn looks at Santana and the other girl gives her a small smile. Quinn smiles back, because sometimes their friendship really is beyond words.

* * *

><p>Sam momentarily leaves to pick up his mom from work and Santana and Quinn kind of just sink into the couch. Santana puts the video game on pause and they just sit there in silence, cups of hot chocolate in their hands.<p>

They're talking about something stupid—Jersey Shore or some other form of trashy television—when Santana quietly leans in to Quinn's shoulder.

"Everything's going to change," She whispers and Quinn can hear the fear and anxiety behind her words. And at the end of the day, Quinn realizes that this is what scares Santana the most: There is no going back to her life before all of this happened.

"Yeah…" she trails off with a sigh.

"People will be looking at me differently and saying things behind my back. They'll be saying things about my family," Santana continues, not really panicking. Just grief stricken. "They're going to say bad things about you too. And Sam."

Quinn nods quietly. Because she's not going to lie, no matter how sucky the entire thing is. She's scared and she's only a friend. She can only imagine what Santana's feeling.

"Well, I can tell you right now that Sam and I aren't going anywhere," Quinn starts slowly. "He once told me that we're like the fellowship of the ring, whatever that means."

Santana actually laughs. And then she falls silent again.

"Hey," Quinn says, leaning in to Santana's head. "We'll figure it out."

She feels Santana nod against her shoulder.

"At least you got to kick Finn Hudson square in the balls," Quinn adds as an afterthought and Santana bursts out laughing.

* * *

><p>"Santana?" Quinn's mom calls from upstairs. Sam and Santana momentarily stop attacking the Xbox controls and Quinn mutes the television. "There's someone here who wants to see you."<p>

Quinn immediately looks at Santana, who makes no attempts to move. Her grasp is tight around the controller and she looks at Quinn.

"I can go see who it is," Quinn says. She gets up and is about to go up the stairs when Santana calls out to her.

"It's fine. I'll go," She says after some hesitation. "Just come with me."

Quinn watches her put the controller down and watches as Sam smiles as he tells her he'll destroy her when she comes back. Santana scoffs and makes her way over to Quinn, who steps aside and follows up the stairs. Quinn's mom is at the top of the stairs and she gives the two girls a small smile.

Sitting on the kitchen stool with a cup of coffee is Sue Sylvester, still clad in today's sweat suit. She's watching the steaming hot chocolate quietly and she looks up when the three of them enter the room.

"Coach," Santana trails off. She hasn't seen Sue since the whole thing exploded. "I'm so sorr—"

"Don't apologize," Sue says quietly. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have been involved in this."

Santana purses her lips and Quinn can see that she's tearing up a little. The phone rings and Judy excuses herself to answer it.

Quinn begins to feel awkward, like she has no place in this conversation, but then Sue opens her mouth to speak.

"Blondie over there's right," She says with pursed lips. "This might be a dent on my campaign, but this is your life we're talking about."

Santana looks at her with a surprised face and Quinn just manages to half smile.

"Santana," Judy says softly as she walks into the kitchen. "Your parents are on the line."

Quinn sees her friend visibly stiffen and instinctively moves closer. After a second of silence, Quinn's mom continues to speak.

"They want to see you," She says with a small parental smile that somehow gets the message through: her parents aren't mad at her.

Santana nods slowly, processing what's happening.

"Can they come over?" She asks, her voice hoarse and the question coming out as a whisper.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>Quinn's sitting out in the porch when she hears the front door open. Sam just left for home and Santana is in the kitchen, sharing some of Quinn's mom's famous hot chocolate with her parents and honestly talking about who she is for the first time. Her own mom is probably resting up after such a hectic day.<p>

"You know, there's still room for you on the squad," Sue Sylvester says off handedly as she steps out of the house. Quinn stands up and turns around. Her former coach had been in their kitchen for more than an hour now, first talking to Santana and then talking to her and her parents.

"Coach," She replies with a little surprised tone. She thought she'd already left.

"What do you say Fabray?"Sue continues.

Quinn opens her mouth to speak, thinking about donning a Cheerios uniform again.

A part of her misses it. She misses the discipline and the rigorous training and the structure and her ability to just be inherently good at something. It's not that bad of an idea, and it would definitely help with college applications, but…

There's also the fact that she would miss her weekend trips to Morris with her mom for training and competitions. And that she would have to stop volunteering at the hospital (and Rachel would kill her). And quit her job at the retirement home.

She licks her lips and looks up at her former coach.

"I'm going to have to pass, coach," She says, hoping the older woman doesn't suddenly throw a tantrum like she has in the past.

And she doesn't. Sue purses her lips and nods. There's a half smile somewhere in there.

"Suit yourself," Sue says with a shrug. She tells Quinn to thank her mom and then she starts walking to her car. Quinn's still within earshot when Sue says something else

"Just one step at the time, Fabray. You'll get there."

Sue drives off and Quinn stands there for a couple of minutes before heading back inside.

* * *

><p>Santana hugs her tight before she leaves with her parents and Quinn waves goodbye as the drive away.<p>

In the kitchen, her mom's cleaning up and washing dishes in the sink. She wordlessly hugs her mom from the back and rests her head on her shoulder.

"Hi Quinnie," Her mom says softly, craning her neck to look at her.

"Thanks mom," She tells her quietly, not really sure of what she's thanking her for either.

But her mom has been nothing but kind this entire time and Quinn knows her mom was raised surrounded by the same closed minded beliefs that she's been forced to believe in.

She didn't ask any questions when she came home to Santana crying in the bathroom. She heated the food Sam brought and gathered everyone to sit around the island and talk about something else while they ate (She decided reimagining Santana as a blond would be a good topic since everyone else around her at that moment was and that managed to lighten up the mood). She also opened her doors to coach Sylvester and Santana's parents and made everyone her famous hot chocolate.

Her mom provided Santana a safe place to hide from the world. And she was there for Quinn so that Quinn could be there for Santana. That's actually why Quinn is thankful.

* * *

><p>The doorbell rings thirty minutes later and Quinn thinks Santana probably forgot something of hers in the house.<p>

"Hey, did yo—" She stops midsentence when she opens the door and finds Finn Hudson awkwardly standing at her doorstep.


	12. Chapter 12

"Hi Quinn," Finn starts nervously. "I'm sorry to bother you but is Santana here?"

He's not looking at her directly in the eye and Quinn's sure he knows how much she wanted to strangle him earlier. Before he even says anything else, she winds back and slaps him across the face.

Or, at least, that's what she wants to do. She slams the door on him instead.

And then she takes two steps away from the door before turning around and opening the door again.

Finn's still standing there, awkwardly staring at the door, looking like the little lost boy that she always saw in him back when they were dating—trying to grasp for what to do and not having anyone to turn to for advice. The little boy who always gave her a goofy smile before asking her to proof read his essays and read his simple yet complicated and well meaning words. The little boy who always looked at her like she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

The little boy that she hurt and the one that hurt the little girl in her.

She manages to sigh, walking to the steps that lead up to her door and sitting down. Finn towers over her for a second before sitting down next to her.

"I know Santana can be harsh," she starts. He snorts and she shoots him a glare. He hurriedly mumbles an apology and purses his lips.

"She hit close to home, didn't she?" Quinn asks after a minute. "That had been hanging over both of your heads for a while now, right? Since now we all know that high school doesn't last forever."

Finn nods slowly. He makes a funny face and he opens his mouth to speak.

"Yeah…" He says slowly. "We keep avoiding it. I just…I don't really know how to explain it. And, um…yeah," He runs a hand through his hair and looks out at the street.

"She belongs on the stage and you're more than happy here in Lima," Quinn says and Finn looks at her.

"But she's also the first person you've ever really loved," She adds quietly, because they both know it.

Quinn wanted to love Finn. And part of her still does. She doesn't know if it's that stupid childish grin. Or if it's everything he stands for: a quiet life, a family, ballet recitals and lacrosse practices, a good husband and a loving father.

"…Yeah," Finn trails off, slightly embarrassed to admit it. Quinn laughs softly.

"It's okay, Finn. You can say it," she says, teasing him slightly.

"I just," Finn starts and Quinn gets the feeling that this is the first time he's saying any of this out loud to anyone. "You know when you really love someone…You can't just like, hold them back from this super grand dream they've been preparing for their entire life," Finn stops, making a face next to her.

"Oh trust me, I know she's been preparing her entire life," Quinn tells him with a hint of a smile. "She told me she started taking dancing lessons when she was 14 months old."

Quinn laughs and the look on Finn's face tells her that he didn't know that. She purses her lips and urges him to continue.

"Yeah. This is like her dream," He mumbles. "And I'm not really a New York kinda fella. I like this. Like, I really love working at the garage and just being around my family and just…just being in Lima."

He stops talking for a bit and Quinn waits for him to continue. She starts picking at the patterns on her dress when Finn talks again.

"But that still doesn't make what I did okay," he finally says after a while. He buries his face in his hands. "I ruined it all for Santana. It's all my fault."

Quinn hesitantly puts a hand on his shoulder. Part of her blames him. Part of her wants to embarrass him and hurt him. But part of her also knows that the little boy who got her that gardenia corsage would never ever want this to happen to Santana. Or anyone for that matter.

"I'm not going to lie," Quinn starts hesitantly. "You were kind of an ass."

Finn looks at her with a surprised look. Yeah, she used to not swear but the occasion calls for it.

"But moping around and beating yourself up won't make it any better for Santana," she says quietly. "Although I would save the apologies for tomorrow. She might castrate you if you come near her."

Finn doesn't say anything and he doesn't look up either.

"Go apologize first thing tomorrow. I don't know, carry her stuff? And then let her demolish you in Call of Duty and any other game you can get your hands on."

"You know what that is?" Finn asks with a surprised voice. Quinn just rolls her eyes. The distraught look on his face comes back and Quinn half turns to look at him.

"Finn, you weren't the one who ran to coach Sylvester's opponent screaming 'the lesbians are coming!' Did you hurt Santana's feelings? Yes. But this isn't all your fault," She tells him firmly. And, somehow, she believes this too.

Finn looks at her and laughs. Really laughs.

"When did you get so funny?" Finn says. Quinn just shrugs.

"I've been hanging out with some weird people," She tells him with a slight smile. Weird doesn't even begin to explain the recent changes in her life.

She gets up and straightens out her dress and Finn follows suit.

"We should both get some sleep. It's been a really long day," She says with an emphasis on the long part.

Finn nods and he walks down the steps.

"You know, you were always just beyond my reach," he confesses shyly, hand on the back of his neck and eyes fixed on the ground. "Like, I always felt like you were gonna end up going places and I could never keep up with you."

Quinn looks at him, not sure of what to do with his sudden admission. She realizes that he looks so small form where she's standing by the door. Now he really does look like a small boy.

"Thanks a lot, Quinn," He finally looks up at her and starts walking back. "Night."

"Night," Quinn responds, watching him drive away before walking back into the house.

* * *

><p>She's about to go to sleep when she gets text messages. Rolling over, she aimlessly feels around the side table for her phone.<p>

_Thnx Q,_ is all that Santana's text says.

The other two texts, however, catch her off guard.

_Thank you for talking to Finn. I do hope Santana is doing alright._

_How are you doing, Quinn?_

She texts a reply to Rachel before rolling over and going to sleep.

_No problem. She's doing better and she's talked to both her parents and coach Sylvester. I'm doing fine, I think. Thanks for asking._


	13. Chapter 13

Quinn barely realizes that Christmas is coming up—and that's impressive, considering the fact that she lives in a predominantly Christian town. She's been so busy with all of her college applications, she just hasn't had any time to do anything holiday-ish.

She spent Thanksgiving with a motley crew of people in their normally empty house. Sam and his family decided to stay in Lima for Thanksgiving since neither of his parents could take more than one day off of work. And Santana opted to sit out of her family's Thanksgiving—her grandmother practically disowned her after she was outed and there was going to be no peace that night if she sat down and shared a meal with her _abuela._

So that Thanksgiving, Quinn, her mom, Sam's mom and Santana put together a massive dinner and they all sat down around the dining table together. It's definitely been a year Quinn should be thankful for—surviving a car crash and all—and she was glad she could spend Thanksgiving with the people who made it so.

* * *

><p>She's in Angie's office, picking up some essays that she needed to be proofread. Angie hands them over with a smile and Quinn manages to let out a nervous laugh.<p>

"Did you finish your Stanford application?" Angie asks her.

Quinn nods.

"I sent it in before November first," She tells her.

"Good," Angie says with a smile.

"Who do I think I am?" Quinn jokes. "Applying to Stanford."

She's kind of always wanted to go to Stanford, although she never really said it out loud—her dad would have not appreciated such 'superfluous' dreams and she also can't handle the thought of people knowing in the event that she didn't get accepted.

"They'd be fools not to take you," Angie tells her. "Hey, what are your safety schools again?"

"Um," Quinn pauses. She doesn't really have any. Angie reads her mind and laughs.

"Why don't you apply to OSU? They're a great big ten school and it doesn't hurt to have a safety school," Angie suggests.

Quinn doesn't say anything for a while. She's not going to lie—she's been anxious to leave Ohio. Going to OSU would mean at least four more years spent in Ohio. It would also mean going to college with several kids from her high school. She wouldn't really be getting the 'new start' she's been dreaming of. Her dad also went to OSU and that's one more thing that she would be reminded of if she went there.

"I'll look into it," She tells Angie.

* * *

><p>"Do these losers actually think I can fit who I am on three pages of paper?" Santana complains to no one in particular, looking up at Quinn. She's sitting on one end of the island in Quinn's kitchen, taking over half of the table space in front of her. They're already on winter break and everyone is busy with their college applications.<p>

"Those losers are going to decide if you get in or not, so it doesn't matter either way," Quinn mumbles, not looking up from her own computer. She's staring at the OSU homepage, her mouse hovering on the apply tab.

"Do I have to send my transcript and stuff?" Sam asks from the other end of the table. "Is it like, through the school or do I just print mine?"

Santana snorts.

"Are you talking about OSU?" Santana asks Sam. Quinn looks up.

"Yeah," Sam mumbles with a confused look on his face, looking through the brochures in front of him.

"I had to do it for mine," Santana tells him casually.

"Oh, okay, can you teach me how to do it?" Sam asks sheepishly. Santana rolls her eyes.

"Come here loser, it's online," She says impatiently and Sam goes next to her, leaning in to see the screen better.

Quinn didn't know either of them was applying to OSU. She just assumed that Santana would want to go somewhere warm and Sam would want to stay close to his family. She bites her lip a little and watches them across from her, realizing that going to college with Santana and Sam would infinitely make up for all the other negatives of going to OSU. But still…

"Q?"

Quinn snaps out of it and looks at Santana.

"Yeah? Sorry."

"Your phone's ringing," Santana tells her. Quinn looks down and sees that her phone is in fact ringing.

"Hey mom," She says, picking up.

* * *

><p>"What are your holiday plans?" Rachel asks while they work through their lunch at the hospital cafeteria. They're both volunteering for extra shifts since they're on winter break.<p>

"I don't really know," Quinn starts. "My sister's not coming to visit so it's just me and my mom. Sam's family is spending Christmas at Texas. And Santana's parents insisted that she just stick it out and celebrate Christmas with her family, despite her grandmother pretending she doesn't exist."

Rachel nods and they're both quiet for a while.

"How is she doing?" Rachel says quietly. Quinn knows that being Finn's girlfriend, Rachel still feels partially responsible for what happened between Finn and Santana. Which isn't really true, but Quinn just lets Rachel's flair for drama have its fun.

Quinn shrugs. It's been rough, since Santana says she is who she is today because of her grandmother. It's been hard not being able to share glee club winning Sectionals and the cheerleading team crushing everyone else at Regionals.

"She's fine, but Christmas is going to be rough."

Rachel nods and the mood takes a turn for the somber.

"Happy Hanukkah," Quinn says suddenly and Rachel gives her a surprised look.

"It is December 20th…isn't it?" Quinn asks hesitantly, feeling like an idiot.

"Definitely," Rachel responds. "I was just surprised is all. No one ever seems to remember that I'm Jewish and that I don't actually partake in Christmas. So thank you, Quinn."

Quinn laughs.

"You're welcome," She says in response. She goes back to her food when she remembers something. "What's Hanukkah like? As in, what is it and how do you celebrate?"

"Well," Rachel starts and Quinn can already tell that she's excited to divulge all this knowledge to her poor Christian friend.

* * *

><p>That night, Quinn comes out of the grocery store with her ice cream in tow when she notices the Salvation Army bell. She donates a dollar and the volunteer thanks her and wishes her happy holidays.<p>

She says thanks and walks to her car before getting an idea.

* * *

><p>"Hey mom?" She calls out as she enters the house.<p>

"Yes?" Her mom responds from the kitchen. She walks over and puts her ice cream in the freezer.

"What did you have in mind for Christmas eve?" Quinn asks, walking over to the sink by her mom and helping her dry dishes.

"Nothing, really," Her mom says. "Why, did you want to do something?"

Quinn nods.

* * *

><p>She's put on mashed potato duty and her mom is next to her with the bread.<p>

"Would you like some mashed potatoes?" Quinn asks the older woman in front of her as she comes by with her tray.

"Yes please," The older woman says with a small smile.

"Bread?" Her mom quips in and the woman nods.

Her mom nudges her with her shoulder when there's some down time. She looks over and sees her mom smiling at her.

"This was a great idea Quinn," Her mom tells her. Quinn smiles back and leans into her mom's side hug. She realizes that she's almost out of the mashed potatoes.

"I think we're almost out of the mashed potatoes," Quinn tells Sheldon, one of the guys in charge of the soup kitchen.

"Oh, okay, I'll have one of the volunteers in the kitchen bring a tray out," Sheldon tells her before disappearing in the kitchen.

Quinn turns around and is in the middle of giving a little boy some mashed potatoes when she hears the kitchen doors open.

"Excuse me, pardon me but I've got a big tray of steaming mashed up spuds coming through!" Says an eerily familiar voice. Quinn turns around and sees Rachel carrying a tray half her size and she almost drops her serving spoon in surprise.

"Rachel?" she says and Rachel looks up at her.

"Quinn! Hi," She responds breathlessly, moving next to her to replace the tray.

* * *

><p>Turns out that Rachel and her dads always spend Christmas in the soup kitchen. In Rachel's own words, her family 'not being aligned with Christianity shouldn't prevent them from giving back on Christmas day.'<p>

So that's how Quinn and her mom ended up sharing a meal with Rachel and her dads on Christmas Eve. It's a little awkward at first, with their parents being their parents, but Rachel seems to be a pro with awkward situations and she diffuses the situation by bringing up baking—something Quinn's mom has in common with one of her dads, the one who isn't Dr. Berry.

"Should I apply to OSU?" Quinn blurts out of nowhere while her mom chats with Mr. not Dr. Berry and Dr. Berry at their table. Rachel looks up from the punch.

"Why not?" Rachel asks simply.

Quinn just nods, thinking about it.

"Yeah, why not?" Quinn repeats after a while. It won't hurt to have it as a safety school.

* * *

><p>At the end of the night—after promises to email cinnamon roll recipes and such—it's just Quinn and her mom sitting around their kitchen island. They've got mugs of hot chocolate and they're flipping through old pictures, including some that Quinn thinks should never ever see the light of day again. Quinn put a Kenny G Christmas recording on the turn table and she laughs as her mom tries to show her how massive her hair was back when she was in high school.<p>

This has definitely been the best Christmas of her life.


	14. Chapter 14

A couple months and a secured Sectionals and Regionals later, Mr. Schuester is still skeptical about the glee club's unity as a team. The Finn-blabbermouth debacle of the year has come and passed, and it's safe to say that the whole thing is water under the bridge, but the good old Schuester is still pretty convinced that something else will blind side his motley crew of teenagers and derail their chances of nabbing the Nationals trophy during what is the last year of high school for some of them.

So he comes up with this…

* * *

><p>"Alright everyone, let's all settle down," Mr. Schue announces as he walks into the room. Quinn stops midsentence and turns away from Mercedes and Tina to look at Mr. Schuester. The gossip can wait later.<p>

"I know that Nationals is right around the corner and we should really be focusing on our song selection for that, but…" He trails off and Quinn can already feel her eyes rolling involuntarily. "I have one last assignment for you."

He takes the fedora resting on the piano and brings it up with him.

"I'm going to pull names out of this hat and pair you all up randomly," He explains. "The exercise will help you if the situation ever arose that you're forced to work with someone you don't normally work with or someone who has a different musical style like it often does in the real world. You'll be presenting in the order that I call you. Take note that your performance can also be a lead in for a solo at Nationals."

"Fair enough?" He asks them all, looking around the room. Rachel's hand immediately shoots up.

"Just for clarity's sake, will we be allowed to pick our own songs?" She asks with that look of hers.

"Sure, that's part of the assignment," Schuester explains. "Anything else?"

Rachel's hand shoots up again. Santana gives Quinn a pointed look before rolling her eyes and looking back at the front.

"Would it really be fair to wager a solo for Nationals if our chances can be potentially marred by who we are paired with?" She asks innocently and Quinn cringes. That girl…

"Well, it's not like anyone's going to be a shoe in after this assignment," Mr. Schue starts slowly. "But it'll be nice to see new combinations."

He hesitates to ask if anyone else has a question, but when nobody else says anything, he shrugs and takes out two pieces of paper from the fedora.

"Finn, you're with Tina," Mr. Schue announces as he reads off of the two pieces of paper. Quinn sees Finn turn around and give Tina a two thumbs up. "Kurt and Puck, give us what you've got."

"Alright, homie, up top," Puck smirks, holding a hand up for Kurt.

"Don't call me that," Kurt scoffs, giving him a high five nonetheless.

"Mike and Brittany," Schue announces. Mike looks at Brittany with a slight apologetic smile—probably for his supposed lack of singing abilities.

"Mercedes," Mr. Schue starts before pulling out another piece of paper. Quinn holds her breath, wondering if she'll be paired with her.

"You're with Artie."

"Chyea, girlfriend," Artie cheers, turning around and being met with a menacing eyebrow. "Just kidding?"

Quinn looks around the room. She's literally left with three people here and—

"Quinn," Schuester calls her and she snaps her head forward. "You're with…"

He starts saying but then he drops the piece of paper back into the hat. He apologizes to no one in particular before going back to pick up another piece of paper.

"Sam," He finishes and Quinn relaxes a little. She turns to Sam and gives him a small smile and he's holding his hand out low. She gives him a discreet "low-five" and shakes her head in fake disapproval.

"Like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan," Sam tells her. "The dream team."

She just laughs.

"Which means," Mr. Schue continues and Quinn turns to Santana, who still hasn't been called yet. "It's going to be Rachel and Santana."

Quinn can see Santana's nose flare a little and she can't help but laugh a little. Santana looks at her with narrowed eyes and she just shrugs.

* * *

><p>"I got jipped," Santana grumbles as they walk out of the choir room. She looks at Quinn with narrowed eyes. "How did you two end up together while I'm stuck with Yentl over there?"<p>

Sam just laughs and Quinn shrugs.

"You'll be fine," She tells the other girl. She's been volunteering with Rachel for several months now and she hasn't strangled her yet. So she should know.

"Santana!" They hear a voice from behind them and all three of them turn around.

"Yes?" Santana asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I suggest that we meet immediately," Rachel starts with that tone of purpose that she almost always talks in. "Seeing as we have a lot work to do."

Santana's mouth hangs open and she looks at her incredulously.

"I sing just fine, thank you very much," She scoffs and Quinn stifles a laugh. She interjects before she and Sam get stuck in this conversation even more.

"As much as I'd love to watch you two attempt to collaborate, Sam and I should really get going since we have work tonight," She explains, starting to walk backwards and away from them. Sam follows suit, waving to the other girls.

* * *

><p>"So," Sam starts as they're cleaning up the tables after dinner. "What do think we should sing? 'Cause I was totally gonna go for some sci-fi tributes. Or maybe country."<p>

"Sam, I don't think we can hum to the Star Wars soundtrack and have it count."

"But that would be so awesome," Sam reasons as he balances a stack of plates on his arm.

Quinn laughs.

"How about we both come up with three possible songs and then just do a quick guitar accompanied duet to pick the best one?" She offers. "I'm sure my mom and your family can help with judging which one's the best."

Sam nods.

"I like the way you think, young padawan."

Quinn shakes her head and throws a stray carrot at him.

"Hey, did you already turn in your OSU application?" Sam asks her casually.

"Yep, I turned it in with Santana," Quinn replies. It's not her dream school, but everyone needs a safety school and that's OSU for her. "Did you?"

"Um, not really," Sam says with a sheepish grin. "I want my application to be perfect and I'm not really the smartest tool in the shed. I'm doing the regular deadline."

Quinn looks at him. It's really the first time she's ever had a conversation about colleges with Sam. Angie's helped her narrow down her college list and because she likes to be on top of everything, Quinn's already taken care of all of her applications. OSU might be her safety, but it's Sam's dream school.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," She reassures him. "We can look over your essays if you want."

Sam looks up at her with a big smile.

"Really? That'd be awesome if you could."

* * *

><p>Quinn still doesn't have any songs an hour before she said she'd meet with Sam to work on arrangements. She's waiting for Rachel for their free dinner after volunteering and she really can't think of anything.<p>

"Sorry for the hold up," Rachel announces as she comes running up to Quinn. "What were you thinking about?"

"Huh? Oh," Quinn's a little startled, what with Rachel's dramatic entrances, but she starts walking with her to the cafeteria. "I'm supposed to come up with three possible songs for glee club. I have none as of the moment. That and colleges."

"Oh, what about colleges?" Rachel asks with an excited tone as they make their way to the stairwell.

"I was just helping Sam with his OSU application," Quinn mused. "I didn't realize that early decision letters for OSU will be coming out soon. I'm slightly nervous that I won't get in."

"You'll be fine Quinn," Rachel reassures her. "I have no doubt that you'll get into OSU."

"Thanks," Quinn mumbles. "At least I have some time to prepare for rejection before top tier schools send out their decision letters."

She laughs. But she's only half joking.

"That's the same weekend as Nationals, right?" Rachel quips. "I'll be coming home to either a large, happy envelope or a sad and normal sized envelope from NYU. After we win Nationals of course."

Quinn laughs.

"Of course," She mimics Rachel.

"Well, the same goes for your Stanford letter," Rachel adds.

Quinn doesn't say anything. She doesn't really like mentioning what her top school is—it means less people will have to know if she doesn't get in. Angie knows, just because she's partially the reason why Quinn looked into it in the first place. Her mom knows, since she helped Quinn pay for some of the application fees. And Santana knows, just because she nagged Quinn until she caved (but only after Santana admitted that she wants to go to Northwestern University in Chicago).

And Rachel knows because honestly, is there anything that Rachel doesn't know?

Stanford seems so perfect: a beautiful campus, California weather, a top medical program. Never mind the massive price tag. Her mom and her are pretty much making ends meet at the moment. She can only hope that she gets a hefty financial aid package. She would rather die than ask her ass of a father for money.

Once they're inside the cafeteria, Rachel nods gets their drinks from the refrigerator and Quinn grabs two trays.

"You know," Rachel starts with her conspiratorial tone. "I really shouldn't be offering any advice since we're technically in competition with each other…"

Quinn rolls her eyes.

"But I do think that you and Sam harmonize well with simple songs with a guitar," Rachel finishes off.

Quinn thinks about it as she reaches for two banana nut muffins.

"And I have some song suggestions, if you'd like," Rachel adds while they look for an empty table.

"Sure," Quinn tells her, spotting a table by the windows. "How's your duet going?"

Rachel sighs.

"So far, Santana's resisted all her urges to strangle me," she explains. "But that's really all because of me; since I've been choosing semi-public places to meet in the event that her homicidal tendencies take over and I would need to call for help."

Quinn shakes her head and laughs at this ridiculousness.

"So what are these songs again?"

* * *

><p>Rachel gives her one song. She and Sam put up a mini trial concert for her mom and his siblings and there's not a doubt in the house that the song is perfect.<p>

* * *

><p>Finn and Tina are up first and Quinn can only think of how unusual the two of them look in front of everyone else. Unusual in the sense that she's just never seen that two of them in this capacity. Drums and snapping open up the act and Tina starts humming shortly before Finn joins in. Quinn immediately knows what it is.<p>

"_Little bitty pretty one," _Finn starts singing.

Quinn smiles because this reminds her of a movie she watched over and over again as a child.

The song ends and it's a pretty good performance. Kurt and Puck come up and Quinn doesn't know if they coordinated their outfits or not, but it works.

"_What would you think if I sang out of tune," _Puck starts off and Quinn can hear Sam saying something along the lines of 'nice, the Beatles!' next to her.

Kurt gives Puck a high five when they finish the song and Brittany immediately runs to the front. Quinn's really interested to see this, since Mike has been so shy about his singing abilities. Brittany counts them off and starts singing and dancing with Mike.

"_I'm feelin' sexy and free," _She sings out with a big smile on her face. Quinn sees Santana looking at the two with a small smile on her face.

Mike sings the pre-chorus and literally wows everyone else to silence.

"_We can do this all night," _He sings with some fancy footwork before winking at Tina's direction. There's a cat call and Quinn starts laughing.

They end the song with a dance showdown and Quinn's convinced that they have to work this into Nationals somehow.

Artie and Mercedes come up to the front after Mike and Brittany take a seat. The music starts and Artie starts singing. It's not a song Quinn's heard of before, but it's really good and perfect for their duet.

"_You are the reason I stay," _Artie croons.

"_I stay, I stay," _Mercedes sings next to him, rocking out and swaying.

It's amazing and making Quinn nervous and she just hugs Mercedes when she and Sam get up for their turn.

Sam looks at her with a smile and nods. He starts strumming his guitar and Quinn takes a deep breath.

"_She grew up on the side of the road," _Quinn starts singing. _"Where the church bells ring and strong love grows."_

This is a really ironic song, Quinn finds herself thinking as Sam starts singing his part. The lyrics do but don't reflect her life in a weird way. They get to the chorus and Quinn finds herself looking at Rachel, wondering if she thought about the same thing when she recommended the song to Quinn.

"_Tryin to be everything can make you lose your mind," _Quinn sings out and Rachel just gives her a small smile. Like she knows what she's thinking.

They finish the song and Quinn's not going to lie—it's not solo material, but they sure sounded great.

"And finally," Mr. Schue says from the front row, turning around to look at Santana and Rachel.

The two of them make it to the front and it's awkward at first. Like two rival singers told to sing with one mic.

The jazzy sound starts playing and Quinn's not so sure what this song is.

"_Closed off from lov__e," _Rachel starts singing. _"I didn't need the pain."_

Rachel sings through the chorus of one song before Santana starts singing the verse of another song.

_"Now you think that I,"_ Santana sings. _"Will be something on the side."_

Quinn raises one eyebrow. Of course Rachel and Santana can't just settle on one song. They had to do a mash up of two. It's pretty impressive. And looking around the choir room, Quinn knows everyone else is thinking of the same thing. Quinn can't believe no one ever thought of having Santana and Rachel sing a duet before.

* * *

><p>That Friday, OSU releases its acceptance offers for people who applied to the early admission program.<p>

Quinn and Santana are at Quinn's watching Jersey Shore when Quinn remembers and they both check their online OSU accounts.

Five minutes later, both she and Santana are jumping up and down in her basement, screaming and dancing and singing at the top of their lungs. It might not be their top school, but it's the first school that they both got into and that's something to go berserk about.

They both almost crush Quinn's mom when she comes down, worried after hearing their screams.

* * *

><p>It's the weekend after they sang their duets for glee club and Quinn's over at Rachel's to work on their lab reports. Rachel Berry being Rachel Berry and Quinn being Quinn, they finish early and are now four episodes deep into <em>Drop Dead Diva<em>.

"I wish I came up with a series as brilliant as this," Quinn mumbles casually, digging into the popcorn.

"I occasionally find myself wishing that," Rachel nods, grabbing her platter of carrot sticks. "I would have loved to obsess over the court room jargon and fashion. And I would have included a musical number or two. But then, what would we watch in the meantime while I still haven't penned this marvelous story in an alternate universe?""

Quinn rolls her eyes.

Rachel looks at her with her eyebrows knit together.

"Although I don't think I'm clever enough for the snappy dialogue," She muses. "That's more of a 'you and Santana' kind of talent. Maybe I could hire you both to insert witty comments throughout the script."

"You've obviously thought this through," Quinn looks at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, well if you didn't already notice," Rachel reasons as digs into her home made dip. "I have a tendency to plan everything down to the last detail. So then nothing will go wrong. Nada. Zilch. Kaput."

"Alright there, I get the point," Quinn says with an eye roll, shaking her head. She threw a popcorn at Rachel, laughing at the other girl screaming.

"Planning is good," Quinn says off handedly a couple of minutes later. "I mean, glee club has managed to stay afloat all these years."

"If that is your backhanded way of complimenting me for all the time and effort I've put into glee, then thank you. And fret not, this year, we're actually going to prepare for Nationals. No more of this let's all write a song the night before the competition crap."

* * *

><p>Her words stick to Quinn and she mulls over them while she watches the show. Much, much later in the week, she comes up to Rachel when she sees her standing by her locker.<p>

"I think I have the perfect song for our group number," she says before Rachel even has a chance to say good morning.

* * *

><p>Songs used:<p>

Thurston Harris - Little Bitty Pretty One

The Beatles - With a Little Help From My Friends

Jessie J - Domino

Fitz & the Tantrums - Pickin' Up the Pieces

Lady Antebellum - American Honey

Leona Lewis/Duffy - Bleeding Love/Mercy (Calmucho mash up)


	15. Chapter 15

"Dude, these hot dogs are legit," Sam says. Or at least, that's what Quinn thinks he says with half a hot dog in his mouth.

"I know!" Santana agrees, her mouth also stuffed with a hot dog. Mike's just nodding fervently next to them, a hot dog in each hand.

Quinn scrounges up her nose, still not being able to believe that she's surrounded by such pigs.

"Guys, chunks are coming out of your mouths every time you speak," Tina reprimands them and Quinn turns around to mumble a thank you.

They're all wandering around Chicago, enjoying the city the day before Nationals. Everyone they know who's been to this city has raved about the hot dogs so that's obviously the first thing they set out to find. And Quinn's not going to lie, it is amazing, but there's obviously more to this city than just the hot dogs.

They did all of the touristy things. They roamed around the museums, getting yelled at because Puck tried to get them to take a picture of him hugging a naked statue. They then spent thirty minutes looking for Brittany in the Field Museum because she got distracted and lost. Most of them gave up after a slice of the Chicago style deep dish pizza while Finn, Mike, Sam and Puck happily obliged to eat the rest of the pizza. Mercedes and Kurt insisted on taking Titanic like pictures with Lake Michigan as a backdrop and they all had the scare of their lives when the wind (it is called the windy city after all) almost wheeled Artie into the freezing waters. They even managed to successfully include everyone in a picture of their reflections on the 'bean' at Millennium Park. It only took ten tries and Rachel barking orders for fifteen minutes.

It's been a fun filled day, but Quinn wishes she had more time to get to know the real Chicago.

* * *

><p>That night, while everyone else is passed out cold after exploring the city, Quinn gets out of bed and sits on the floor next to the hotel window. She just looks out and watches the city, looking at the cars and the people milling about.<p>

"I hope I get into Northwestern," She hears Santana whisper. Quinn turns around and sees Santana getting out of bed to sit next to her on the floor.

Quinn nods.

"We get our decision letters tomorrow," she says quietly.

"Don't remind me," Santana tells her, looking out at the window.

Quinn just laughs and looks back out the window.

"Just making sure you're mentally prepared."

Santana snorts.

"You would be so far away from me," She says quietly, not looking at Santana. She's known for a while that unless they both go to OSU, they would still be miles away from each other.

Santana doesn't say anything. She just looks out the window.

"This city's beautiful," Santana muses quietly.

Looking out the window, Quinn nods slowly. She wouldn't mind calling this city home.

* * *

><p>"Where's Santana?" Rachel almost half shrieks. They're all getting ready to perform in the Chicago Theater and Rachel realizes that Santana is missing. Quinn looks at Rachel before looking around, realizing that Santana is indeed MIA.<p>

Before Rachel launches an all out search or breaks out into hives and starts hyperventilating, Quinn immediately gets up.

"I'll find her," She announces.

"We're going on stage after four choirs!" Rachel reminds her. Quinn puts her hands up.

"I know," She responds confidently to calm the other girl down. "So let me go and find her."

* * *

><p>She's freaking out.<p>

Quinn has no clue where to look. She could be anywhere in the auditorium. And she doesn't have her phone on her either—none of them do. Santana isn't even a big fan of this building. She called it too stuffy.

That's when it hits Quinn.

* * *

><p>"You almost gave Rachel a heart attack…actually, we're not within a foot radius of her right now so she could be having a heart attack for all we know," Quinn muses, coming up next to Santana.<p>

They're a block or so North of the theater, leaning over the railing of the State street bridge and watching the Chicago River below them. Well, Santana is. Quinn's just trying not to get crushed by the throngs of people rushing past them.

Santana lets out a snort.

"Rachel wouldn't have a heart attack," She mumbles. "She'd just rearrange our number and sing everything herself."

Quinn nods.

"That's true."

Before she can even ask what happened, Santana begins explaining. Quinn knows Santana doesn't get nervous. They were in cheerleading for several years and neither of them is new to the pressure.

"My grandmother is here," She says quietly. Quinn looks at her and purses her lips. "I saw her walking in with my family just as we were being herded into the backstage."

"She is, huh…" Quinn trails off, not really sure what to make of the situation.

"Yep," Santana sighs, still looking down at the river.

They must look so odd to everyone right now—with their dresses and their hair done and the fact that they're staring at the water below them like they've never seen water before.

"How deep do you think that is?" Santana asks casually, looking at the river.

Quinn gives her an incredulous look. Santana looks at her and rolls her eyes.

"I'm not gonna jump or anything, Jesus," She says. "I'm just gonna throw Berry in it if we lose in front of my _Abuela_."

Quinn laughs.

"Let's go then," Quinn says simply, the corner of her lips lifting in what resembles a smile. "Show her you're still you."

Santana nods after a second and they start walking off to the theater.

* * *

><p>They break out into a neck breaking sprint after about a minute, realizing that they are going to cut it close if they don't.<p>

In the end, they make it with enough time to get an earful and a half from Rachel.

* * *

><p>Half of them are in the left wing, waiting for the show choir from Michigan to finish singing. Quinn notices Rachel ringing her hands next to her and it's the first time ever that Quinn's seen her nervous. Sure, Quinn's also freaking the hell out, but Rachel literally looks like she's trying to pull her fingers out. Silently, Quinn pries one of Rachel's hands out of the death grip and interlaces it with her own. Rachel looks at her with a surprised look.<p>

They hear the announcer mention the other show choir's name one last time and Rachel's breath hitches.

"You know, people will say that a star was born on this day," Quinn says quietly. "But I'm pretty sure Rachel Berry became a star in that choir room, the moment she sang her first song."

Quinn gives her a small and encouraging smile and Rachel manages to smile back. Then she smiles her annoyingly large 'Rachel Berry, future Broadway star' smile and Quinn knows she's feeling better now.

They're announced and Quinn gives Rachel's hand a final tug before walking to her spot and taking a deep breath. She stands quietly, looking through the crowd as she waits for their number to start, and she spots her mom sitting in the middle section. The corner of her lips turn upwards a little as her mom gives her a discreet wave and a smile. She's really grateful that Nationals is in Chicago this year—the handy-dandy school bus proved to be enough to get them there and their parents made it out to their actual performance

"_I'm limited,"_ Santana starts to sing and Quinn sees her from the corner of her eye. Quinn watches her best friend transform in front of her, singing the opening lines to '_For Good_.' Quinn looks around the crowd to try and spot Santana's family, but she doesn't have the same luck as she did with her mom. She just closes her eyes and prays—for the first time in months—for Santana's grandmother to come around.

"_I've heard it said_," Rachel begins to sing, making her way next to Santana. _"That people come into our lives for a reason." _

It's meant to be duet, and Quinn will never discredit Santana for her own powerful voice, but Rachel is something else.

She also attempts not to laugh throughout the entire song, because unlike her and the glee club, the rest of the people in the auditorium are blissfully unaware of Santana and Rachel's rather rocky friendship.

"_Because I knew you…"_

"_I have been changed for good..."_

Quinn knows she doesn't have to vocal capacity to sing it, and she's not really a big fan of show tunes, but there's something about this song.

Santana and Rachel trail off and the music slowly fades. Quinn starts to feel her nervousness rising. She looks around to calm herself down and she spots Sam down the line. He gives her a smile and holds her gaze for a minute. It's more than enough to help her breathe.

The lights shine on the rest of the club and the piano starts playing. It really is quite a fitting song, she thinks to herself as the piano plays on. Not just for the competition, but for this glee club too. For everyone. For her.

She makes her way down the stage in step with her friends and they begin to sing the last song they will ever sing together like this.

"_Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes…"_

* * *

><p>They win—and why wouldn't they after some solid vocals from Artie, Kurt and Tina and a powerful solo by Mercedes that brought the house down—and Quinn thanks whoever is up there because she would have strangled Mr. Schuester if they didn't.<p>

Finally, someone figured out that writing a song the night before the competition is not exactly first place material.

* * *

><p>Quinn watches as Santana hesitantly walks up to her family before hugging her grandmother. She smiles, because this is a step in the right direction.<p>

Her mom comes up to her with flowers and she raves about how wonderful they all were. But especially her little Quinnie and Quinn just laughs. They kind of merge with Sam and his family and Sam's little siblings immediately latch on to Quinn to tell her how amazing she was.

"I was pretty good too!" Sam quips next to her and Quinn pats him on the back when his siblings don't let go of her.

She catches Rachel's eye between her dads and the Hummel-Hudson clan and she smiles when Rachel mouths a 'thank you' in her direction.

"Okay," Her mom's voice overpowers the chatter and she looks back at her. "Time for pictures."

Quinn laughs while her mom drags Sam over and borrows Santana from her family. Sam's got a big grin, his arms around Santana and Quinn as they flank him with bouquets of flowers in their hands.

* * *

><p>"Hello?" Quinn says into her phone later that night. She's just made it home from Chicago. The first thing she hears is a scream and her instinct is to pull the phone away from her face so that she doesn't go deaf.<p>

"_I got in! OH MY FREAKING GOD! I GOT INTO NORTHWESTERN!"_

Quinn's jaw drops.

"That's amazing San!" She screams into the phone and her mom gives her a weird look from the kitchen.

"_Did you check your mail yet?" _Santana asks from the other end.

Quinn immediately sifts through the mail waiting for her and picks up her Stanford envelope—her large, happy Stanford envelope. She looks up at her mom and her mom just smiles.

"Mom, you open it," Quinn says, handing her the envelope. Her mom asks her if she's sure and Quinn nods. She licks her lips and looks at her mom intently. Her mom rips the envelope slowly and Quinn doesn't breathe the entire time her mom is reading the letter. When her mom looks up with a big smile on her face, Quinn starts yelling, pulling her mom close and jumping up and down with her.

Neither of them notice the second piece of paper tucked into the envelope, the one concerning Quinn's financial aid. Or lack thereof.

* * *

><p>Songs used:<p>

Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth - For Good

The cast of RENT - Seasons of Love


	16. Chapter 16

So. Financial aid sucks.

Russell Fabray is still, as defined by the United States government, her father. The paper that Quinn is currently this close to crumpling and throwing across the room is telling her that her parents have enough to send her to Stanford without any scholarships. Never mind that her ass of a father is out of the picture and that all her mother has to her name is their house and enough for them to get by.

And because everyone in Stanford is smart, they apparently don't believe in merit based scholarship. Just need based.

She wants to cry and scream and cut someone all at the same time. She doesn't know what to do.

* * *

><p>"We can sell the house," Her mom offers.<p>

Quinn frowns. She's seen her mom late at night looking over paperwork and bank statements. It's not fair to her mom.

She shakes her head.

"I can't do that you mom," She says quietly. Her mom is about to speak so she cuts her off. "I'll figure it out."

* * *

><p>Quinn's just about to head home when one of the older volunteers catches up with her.<p>

"Quinn, dear, I know you're about to head home but can you help me out?" Edy, an older volunteer, asks her.

"Of course," Quinn responds, noting the panicked man behind the older woman.

"There's a whole group of surgery check-ins that just walked in and this young man over here needs help finding the maternity ward."

"My wife just went into labor," The guy says breathlessly. "I'm going to meet my baby girl!"

"Can you take him dear?" Edy adds, looking at Quinn.

Quinn feels the blood drain from her face. After all this time, she's managed to steer clear of that part of the hospital. She looks at Edy and then at the expectant guy smiling at her and swallows hard. Against every cell in her body, Quinn nods.

"Sure thing."

* * *

><p>"I hope she doesn't kill me for being so late," The guy, Anthony, mumbles next to her. They're inside the elevator and Quinn silently watches the floor numbers light up as they ascend the building. She swears everything is going so slowly.<p>

She can also hear her own heart beating in her ear. Pounding. And she's sweating and pale and just as nervous as the soon-to-be father next to her. If only they could get stuck in this elevator…

"I'm so nervous," Anthony says with a small smile, glancing at her. "And slightly freaking out. This is so scary."

Quinn looks at him and tries to mask her anxiousness.

"You should be," She tells him with a small smile. "This is going to be the greatest day of your life."

There's a ding and the elevator doors slide open. There are murals of cartoon animals and little children and Anthony rushes out immediately. Quinn follows suit, remembering that he still needs to be let into the maternity ward.

She hesitates—remembering the last time that she was in this part of the hospital—before finally swiping her card into the reader. The sliding doors part to let them in. The secretary at the door looks up at them.

"I'm here for Claire Simondsen," Anthony announces, rushing up to the desk. "I'm her husband, Anthony."

"She's been waiting for you," a nurse suddenly appears with a smile on her face. "Well, come on."

Anthony all but runs after her, but he remembers to looks back and wave to Quinn.

"Thank you Quinn!"

Quinn smiles and waves back.

"No problem. Congratulations!" She's just about to leave, because the bears and the birds and all the other animals in the mural are staring at her, when the secretary calls her.

"Dear, you're a volunteer, aren't you?" She asks. "Can you do me a favor and bring some samples to the lab? The tube system is down as of the moment."

Quinn nods and smiles.

"Sure," She replies, going up to the desk and expecting the basket volunteers are typically given to deliver specimen to the lab in the basement. Another expectant family buzzes in and the secretary turns to her desk.

"Oh dear, lots of babies bein borned today!" The secretary exclaims. "Why don't you go on ahead to the back nurse's station and collect the specimen. Just walk down that hall and it's the second room to your right."

Quinn nods and takes the empty basket. She makes her way down the hall and stops after several steps.

She takes a deep breath and looks up, suddenly finding the markings on the ceiling interesting. Closing her eyes shut, she gives in and looks to her right. She slowly moves closer to the windows and hesitantly puts her hand against the pane.

Silently, she watches the baby girl sleeping inside an incubator. When the baby yawns and stretches, that's when Quinn starts crying.

* * *

><p>Rachel finds her staring into space out in the courtyard. When she kneels next to Quinn and realizes that there's mascara running down her face, she doesn't say anything.<p>

Covering Quinn's hand, Rachel looks at her with a sad smile on her face.

"Should I call Santana to get you?"

Wordlessly, Quinn nods.

"Stay with me until she comes," She manages to say. It's not a question. And it isn't an order either.

Rachel nods and sits down next to her.

* * *

><p>Santana picks her up in a heartbeat. When Quinn gets home, she crawls into bed. She almost goes to sleep when she notices an email waiting for her. Against her better judgment, she gets up to read it.<p>

It's not the bearer of good news. There, stated in black letters, is a promise that the financial aid office will reconsider her aid package. Also there, a couple lines below, is pretty much a polite let down, telling her not to get her hopes up.

She doesn't know how she got to her mom's bed, but she ends up crying herself to sleep there.

* * *

><p>"What are you going to sing?" Sam asks her while they're cleaning up in the retirement home dining room after lunch. Quinn looks up at him. She's exhausted. And with the recent developments in her life, their last glee assignment isn't really at the top of her list.<p>

"I haven't really thought about it yet," She responds. "I don't even know who I'm singing to."

In the spirit of graduation and the school year ending, Mr. Schuester told them to use a song to say something they can't quite say in words to someone else. Other people knew off the bat what they were going to sing. Or at least who they were going to sing to.

Quinn's been saying that she really doesn't know who to sing to. But she does. She just doesn't know what song will say exactly what she can't say.

"Dude," Sam starts. "Let's work on it tonight. I can come over and we can look through our libraries and all the records at your place."

"Sure."

* * *

><p>Sam is busy playing around with his guitar while Quinn sifts through her music. She can't really focus.<p>

"Any luck guys?" Her mom asks as she walks down the stairs and stands by the stacks of records.

"No," Quinn responds.

"No luck at all Mrs. F," Sam says with a frown, putting his guitar down.

"Well that's a bummer," Her mom replies as she flips through some of the records. "How about we eat some dinner and then you can go back to your search after?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Sam responds, getting up and straightening his pants.

"Yep, need any help mom?" Quinn says as she puts her laptop down. "Sam's a great cook too."

Sam laughs.

"Sure, I could use a couple of assistants," Her mom says with a smile. "Let's head on over to the kitchen, crew."

Sam heads on upstairs and Quinn follows him. Her mom puts her hand on her shoulder and gives her a smile.

After some pasta and good laughs, Quinn feels slightly better.

* * *

><p>Quinn's in the choir room alone a good hour and a half before school starts. Between work, volunteering, studying for finals and attempting to keep everything together, she finds it peaceful—sitting in a deserted choir room and playing random notes on the piano while in deep thought. She's a little shocked when Puck walks in with his guitar. The notes immediately stop and Quinn looks up at him.<p>

He doesn't have that same smug look on his face and he manages a half smile.

"Hey," Puck says, walking over to the piano.

"Hi," Quinn responds, inching over to let him sit next to her. He slowly sits down, his back against the piano. After a minute of silence, he sighs.

"I can't pick just one song," He says quietly, playing with the guitar strings.

He trails off and looks at her. Quinn nods slowly. In the end, she and Puck do have this bond. And right now, he's really the only person who can understand.

"There are a million things that I want to say," Quinn mumbles, playing a random note. "And I'll probably never get to say them."

Puck just nods next to her. She leans her head on his shoulder after a second and they sort of just sit there in the silence.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Quinn's studying for finals when Santana texts her.<p>

"_U pick a song yet?"_ the text reads. Quinn rolls her eyes at the u.

"_No, did you?"_

"_Yeah."_

"…_Are you going to tell me?"_

"_Calm down woman. Jesus. Ull hear it tomorrow. U need to tell me if itz good."_

"_Okay."_

She goes back to her highlighted notes after, attempting to focus on chemistry. Really, failing her AP exams and finals is the last thing she needs right now.

It's almost midnight.

Quinn sighs before closing her book and getting up from her desk.

* * *

><p>Quinn comes down for a glass of milk and gets the shock of her life when she enters the kitchen. Her mom is leaning against the counter, mixing cookie dough. She looks up when Quinn enters the kitchen and Quinn can see how tired her mom looks. Since her mom gave up alcohol, Quinn noticed that she bakes whenever she's worried or upset.<p>

"Hi honey," her mom greets her. "If you can wait a little, we can have cookies with milk."

Quinn manages to smile.

"Sure mom, let me grab the cookie sheet."

* * *

><p>An hour later, they're both sitting there and dipping their freshly baked cookies in milk. Quinn's mom put on an old Elton John record to keep them company.<p>

"I'm sorry," Her mom says quietly and Quinn looks up. "This really is awful. I have such a wonderful daughter and I can't even support her and send her to a good school. It's like I failed."

Quinn feels her head shaking involuntarily.

"No mom," She starts. "Don't say things like that. I'm lucky to have a mom like you."

She's being really sincere here and she's really glad that her mom and her have made this much progress in terms of communication.

"You didn't fail. I just got a little too ambitious," Quinn smiles at her mom. "Things happen for a reason."

She doesn't really know if she believes anything that she's saying right now. She doesn't even know where any of this is coming from. But her mom just looks so tired, thinking of how she can send her daughter to a school that is so obviously beyond her checkbook.

She drifts off and stares at the glass of milk in front of her. She wonders what this would have felt like, a mom and her daughter baking cookies, except from the other end. Would they have baked chocolate chip cookies too? Or sugar cookies? What record would she play while they sat down and dipped their cookies in milk? Given the chance, what song would she sing to her lit—

"I've been thinking a lot lately," Her mom's voice brings her back to mom leans on her hand and looks at her.

"You know how you told me that you're trying," Her mom starts hesitantly. "And I can see that you are."

Quinn nods slowly, taking another cookie.

"Well, I want to try too," her mom continues. "I'm thinking of selling the house."

Quinn opens her mouth to protest but her mom puts a hand on her arm to stop her.

"It's not just about tuition, honey. I mean, yes, it will definitely help us both, wherever you decide to go in the end…"

She emphasizes the decide part of her statement, giving Quinn's arm an extra squeeze.

"I also want to start fresh, somewhere new where I can maybe begin to figure myself out too," She explains with a small, excited smile. "We can both start a new chapter in our lives."

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Quinn genuinely smiles. It's good news amidst all the crap that seems to have sprung up out of nowhere. She's been worried about her mom staying behind in Lima after she moves away for college.

"That sounds great mom," Quinn says, taking her mom's hand in hers. Her mom laughs.

"It's a little scary, I am an old lady after all," She muses and Quinn waves her silly notions away. "But it's something that I've been wanting to do for a while."

Quinn moves in to hug her mom tight. She forgets about her troubles that night and just talks to her mom about the things she's thinking of doing when Quinn graduates.

* * *

><p>She's waiting for her mom to come back from the bathroom when a new song plays on the turntable. It's an old Elton John song she's never heard of before, but the words speak to her more than any of the other songs she's listened to for her glee assignment.<p>

When her mom comes back, Quinn's already by the piano, rearranging the song and making it her own.


	17. Chapter 17

"Here," Santana says as she shoves an earphone into Quinn's face. They're at lunch and Quinn is just talking to Sam and Mike. Quinn looks at her with an eyebrow raised before taking the earphone.

"Should I sing this?"

The song starts playing and Quinn listens carefully as Santana sits next to her and anxiously waits for a response.

"It's perfect," She quietly, looking straight into Santana's eyes. Santana just nods and half smiles before stealing some of Sam's fries.

* * *

><p>They're clapping as Artie finishes singing and Mr. Schuester calls Puck up to sing.<p>

Puck walks on over to the front with his guitar in tow and he gives Quinn a slight smile. Quinn feels herself smiling back and part of her wishes that she had something to record Puck's words.

"_Goodnight my angel, time to close your eyes," _Puck sings out softly. _"And save these questions for another day."_

It takes everything in Quinn not to cry. And as she's watching Puck, she knows he's feeling the same way.

"_Someday your child may cry and if you sing this lullabye, then in your heart there will always be a part of me." _

When he trails off, everyone in the room is quiet. Someone, Quinn doesn't know who, starts clapping and everyone follows suit. Quinn doesn't. She just gives Puck a small smile. Santana gets up because she's next and she gives Puck a tight hug before he sits back down.

While she waits for Brad to start playing the piano, Santana wrings her hands. The intro plays and Santana nervously looks up. Quinn smiles at her and Sam gives her a thumbs up from next to Quinn.

"_Something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long…"_

The whole choir room is quiet, really in awe at how powerful and underrated Santana's voice is, but also aware that this song is for Brittany. Quinn steals a glance at Brittany.

The other girl is looking at Santana intently, her expression unreadable. And it stays like that for most of the song.

"_Set me free, leave me be…I don't wanna fall another moment into your gravity…"_

The whole song just gives Quinn chills and she watches Santana quietly. Santana trails off and it's eerily quiet in the room. Then, Brittany starts clapping and everyone follows suit. Puck whistles and Mercedes starts going off about how awesome that was.

Quinn manages to catch the small smile Brittany sends to Santana. She also catches the slight smile Santana sends in return.

Sam gets up after giving Santana a high five and he picks up his guitar.

"I don't think I can follow that, so…" he trails off and they all laugh. He starts strumming his guitar.

"_She got the call today, one out of the gray. And when the smoke cleared, it took her breath away…"_

Quinn can't say she's heard of this song. Sam gets to the bridge and momentarily puts his guitar down. He claps on the beat and Mike follows suit, signaling everyone to do so. Quinn laughs, because it's just ridiculous, and Sam breaks into the bridge.

"_Cause you are all that I've waited for, for all of my life…You pull me closer to love…"_

It's like a mini concert and everyone starts clapping. It's a pretty good song but Quinn doesn't know who it's for. Sam finishes off and she turns to ask Santana if she knows when Mr. Schuester calls her. She looks to the front before getting up slowly and sitting in front of the piano. She spreads her music out and takes a deep breath. Puck gives her a slight nod. Seeing Mike and Sam give her both a thumbs up and Santana nodding in her direction, she starts playing the piano.

"_It's a little bit funny," _She starts singing. _"This feeling inside…"_

She keeps singing and she can't help but feel the tremor. She's sure no one knows who she's singing this to. It doesn't make her any less anxious though.

She catches Rachel's encouraging smile right before she goes into the last chorus.

"_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words…." _

She strips down the piano.

"_How wonderful life is, now that you're in the world…" _She trails off, not moving her hands from the keys. Everyone starts clapping and she just gives them all a small smile. She lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Rachel gats up to sing next just as Quinn settles down next to Santana.

She's half expecting Rachel to launch into a speech like she normally does before every song she sings in glee club but she doesn't. She just says it's an unreleased Sara Bareilles song she heard at her concert. Puck starts playing the guitar next to her.

"_You wanna walk into the room like that other girl does, that one that's always making everybody fall in love…you see, girl you're a lot like me…"_

The song catches Quinn's attention and she watches as Rachel sings this one almost hesitantly. This sounds like a song Rachel's singing to herself. Is that even valid?

"_So before you trade in your summer skin for those high heeled shoes to make them wanna be with you, let me remind you one more time…that maybe you're beautiful and you just can't see…."_

Puck plays a little bit of a solo and Rachel hums along before fading away completely.

* * *

><p>Quinn's washing her hands in the bathroom when Rachel comes in.<p>

"Hey," She says, wringing her hands and looking at Rachel.

"Hello Quinn," She says with a smile, going up to the sink and washing her hands as well.

"That was a really nice song," Quinn starts saying. "Is it online anywhere?"

"Definitely," Rachel responds enthusiastically. "I'll post a link on your Facebook."

"Thanks," Quinn responds, going over to the paper towel dispenser.

"Did you sing that song for Beth?" Rachel asks hesitantly from behind her. Quinn stops wiping her hands. She doesn't turn to face Rachel but her tense shoulders are probably giving her away right now. She didn't think anyone would notice.

She turns to face Rachel slowly.

"Yes," She says quietly.

Rachel smiles.

"It was beautiful."

Quinn looks at her.

"Thank you," she barely manages to whisper.

* * *

><p>"Was that for Brittany?" Quinn asks quietly once they're alone in Santana's car. Santana doesn't look at her but she does stop from almost turning the keys and sits back.<p>

"Yep," She finally says and Quinn can tell that a heavy burden has been lifted. "Dramatic, right?"

"Not really," Quinn responds before pausing. "I mean, If you started bawling on the floor, then that would be dramatic."

Santana rolls her eyes. Quinn looks out the window.

"She won't leave him," Santana starts quietly and Quinn looks at her. "She just has, this like, this giant heart that can love everything. It's like God sent her here to remind us idiots that there are still good and beautiful things on this planet. And that no matter how shitty life gets, we keep moving forward for those."

Quinn looks back out the window. They never talk about Brittany. Ever. It's almost like the mere mention of her name physically hurts Santana.

"What am I supposed to do?" Santana laughs, throwing her hands up. "I know that we're going our separate ways in a couple months or whatever. And I know we're young and shit and half the time I don't really know what the fuck is going on with my life. But…"

"I know that she's the love of my life," Santana says quietly. Her conviction throws Quinn off.

She doesn't know how any of this feels, to be honest. Love has always been a foreign concept for her. But she knows how it feels when everything around you seems to be going on a downward spiral and you're clinging on to the one thing that's good in your life. The one thing that you can't have.

She doesn't really want to sound like a romantic comedy but she says it anyway.

"Somehow, I believe that two people will always find their way back to each other," Quinn muses. She doesn't know if it's all those stupid Drop Dead Diva episodes she's seen with Rachel or if all those Jersey Shore episodes finally impaired her mental capacity to think logically.

Or if it's seeing eighty year old husbands accompanying their eighty year old wives at the hospital for whatever it is while she's volunteering. And serving lunch to retired couples at the retirement home—couples who fight and bicker and still hold hands while they're out for a walk in the courtyard.

There's an awkward moment of silence. And then Santana bursts out laughing.

"You sound like a cheesy Katherine Heigl movie."

* * *

><p>"She says she'll be here in a jiffy," The old lady tells Quinn. She's at the hospital volunteering and currently waiting for a patient's family to pick her up. She smiles at the older lady.<p>

"Dear, you look so tired," The older lady observes. "Sleep is essential to a healthy body."

Quinn laughs lightly. She's heard that line before.

"It's a little nutty right now," She offers to the lady, who nods.

"Oh, I know what you're saying," She replies. "My grandson is also a senior in high school. He's so darned busy. I never see him anymore."

She's pouting and Quinn can't help but smile. She puts her hand on the lady's back and looks at her.

"I'm sure he's working hard to make you proud," She tells her. "Final exams are coming up after all."

"Well that's silly," The old lady starts with a look on her face. "I'm already proud of him. I'll always be proud of him no matter what."

Quinn falters for a second before smiling an even bigger smile.

"He's a good and respectful boy," The lady continues. "He works hard, lives honestly and compassionately, and makes the best out of what he has. He may have stumbled a little when he was younger, but that's youth. What's important is he's growing up."

The lady's face breaks into a huge grin and she turns to Quinn with mirth in her eyes.

"He'd also make a wonderful boyfriend," She says. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Quinn laughs before shaking her head.

* * *

><p>She was convinced that she'd find a way to get to Stanford. Foolishly, she accepted their offer while her financial aid was still being reviewed. Angie told her that she could call both OSU and Stanford's admissions and explain her situation and accept both so she's not left without a college when the dust settles. She told Santana what she did while they were driving back from school and Santana accepted Northwestern that same night.<p>

Now, waiting for her mom to pick her up at the hospital, Quinn's not so sure. Her talk with her mom really opened her eyes. There is no way for her to go to Stanford without digging her mom and herself into a ton of debt or crawling back to her father.

The first option isn't even up for discussion, even with her mother's insistence. And the latter…well that could end badly for both her and her mom. Not that her father would believe that she got into a school as selective as Stanford in the first place.

She almost misses her mom's call while in deep thought. She gets up from the bench she's sitting on and waves to her mom in the parking lot.

* * *

><p>In the end, she retracts her acceptance from Stanford and accepts OSU.<p>

It's a hard decision. But it's one she has to make.

* * *

><p>When Santana doesn't say anything after Quinn tells her that in the end, there is no way her financial aid is going to work out and she's accepting OSU's offer instead, Quinn realizes that Santana was seriously considering going to OSU with her and Sam.<p>

* * *

><p>"Quinn," Angie starts saying just as Quinn is getting ready to leave from their session. "Why don't you take a day trip with your mom and visit OSU? My niece is there right now, I'm sure she'd love to give you an insider's tour."<p>

Quinn looks at her with a strange look. They've been talking about her college dilemma ever since she got her acceptance letter from Stanford. Quinn still has mixed feelings about her decision. Part of her is still bitter.

"Go with an open mind," Angie adds, smiling at her. "OSU is beautiful. I went there."

Quinn's been to OSU before for cheerleading competitions. But she's never really had the chance to explore the place before.

Slowly, she nods.

"That's a great idea," She says, taking out her phone to write down the contact information.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Sam says as he walks into the kitchen.<p>

Quinn looks up from her laptop. It's the Friday after their final exams and before prom and all the seniors are officially done with schoolwork. She told her mom about Angie's idea and her mom was enthusiastic, telling Quinn to pick a date after her graduation so that they can drive down and visit. She was just looking at the 'how to get here' page on OSU's website.

She looks at Sam with a questioning look.

"Hey," She responds. "I thought you said you can't watch that movie today."

"Yeah, about that…" Sam trails off and Santana appears behind him with a smile and a hand wave.

"Let's go princess!"She says excitedly, walking over and taking Quinn's hand.

"Wai—where?" Quinn asks, looking around as Santana drags her to her room.

"You'll see," Santana says.

"I have work! And I have to tell my mom we're going somewhere," Quinn protests.

"I'm covering for you at work!" Sam screams from downstairs.

"I already know honey," Her mom follows, her voice also coming from downstairs.

Quinn stops in the middle of her room as Santana pulls one of her old cheerleading duffel bags out. She laughs a little and looks at Santana.

"Okay, wait, what's going on?"

"Too many questions, not enough packing Q," Santana quips. "Bring something presentable. And something to sleep in cause you's not coming home tonight."

She relents eventually, packing the essentials and shooting a glance at Santana every two seconds. The other girl is sitting on her bed, filing her nails. Really, Santana has this canny ability to produce a nail filer out of thin air.

* * *

><p>They're making their way down when she notices her mom and Sam in the kitchen.<p>

"I made some sandwiches for the trip," her mom says, handing Santana a lunch box. "The one with the marker is vegan."

…vegan?

"Thanks Mrs. F," Santana says just as Quinn looks at her mom. There's something about Judy's face that looks like she's so afraid of letting Quinn go. She pulls Quinn in for a tight hug and Quinn just gives Sam a weird look. Sam just gives her a small half smile.

"I love you hunny," She says quietly.

"You too, mom," Quinn responds slowly, patting her mom awkwardly. Her mom lets go and Quinn swears she's a little teary.

"Well you should get going, I want you to be back before it's dark tomorrow," Her mom lets them know, bossing them around like the mom that she is.

Quinn rolls her eyes and Santana laughs at her. They move out and Sam carries her bag for her while her mom stays by the door. Sam puts her bag in Santana's trunk before walking over to Quinn's side. Quinn opens her mouth to say something but he beats her to it.

"You ladies have fun," He says with his cheeky grin. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Santana rolls her eyes.

* * *

><p>"So are you gonna tell me where we're going now?" Quinn asks. She thinks they're about to pull into the interstate when Santana makes the wrong turn. And then they're in front of Rachel Berry's house.<p>

"Oh my…I am not sleeping over at Berry's house," Quinn exclaims, looking at the house and then turning violently to face Santana.

Santana starts laughing hysterically.

"Calm your tits woman," Santana manages to say before honking the horn violently.

Quinn looks back at the house and Rachel comes out of the front door, ridiculously polka-dotted duffel bag in toe. She says goodbye to someone inside the house before closing the door behind her. Then she stands on her tiptoes, as if on reflex or something, and dramatically waves at Santana and Quinn.

Quinn waves a little with a questioning look on her face before turning to look at Santana.

"Okay, what's going on?" She asks Santana. Before the other girl can say anything, Rachel unceremoniously plops onto the back seat.

"Santana, I know you drive like a maniac," Rachel begins to say as she buckles her seatbelt. "But I would appreciate it if you can get me back in time for prom. It did take me forever to find the perfect dress."

Santana rolls her eyes and Quinn stifles a laugh.

"Don't worry Yentl," Santana says with an exasperated tone.

* * *

><p>Songs used:<p>

Billy Joel – Lullabye

Sara Bareilles – Gravity

Ellie Goulding – Your Song (Elton John cover)

Sara Bareilles – Beautiful Girl


	18. Chapter 18

"Santana there really is no need to speed so much," Rachel muses from the back seat. She sits up and pokes her head between the two front seats. "75? Are you trying to get us killed? How tragic would that be? 'Future Broadway star dies in a tragic car accident due to a manic driver.' Just think of all the people that wou—."

"Are you wearing your seatbelt, Yentl?" Santana says, gripping the wheel.

"Of course I am," Rachel says indignantly. "Why would you ask such a silly question? I abide by the traffic laws to a tee. You on the other ha—."

"Darn, and I was about to slam on the brakes and send you hurtling forward," Santana tells her with a smirk.

Rachel gasps.

"My nose would break upon impact!"

"Exactly."

Quinn puts her face in her hands. She still doesn't know where they're headed and she's been stuck in this car for an hour now, forced to deal with two children bickering almost constantly. At first, she thought that they were headed for OSU. But then she realized that they were going in the opposite direction.

"I'm being serious Santana, slow down," Rachel repeats.

"Jesus Christ, Rachel!" Santana lets out. "I should have locked your loud bossy ass in that bathroom and left you at that grimy gas station. I wish I had a reject button-majigy or something."

"First of all, it's an eject button," Rachel says in a matter of fact tone. "And second of all, Quinn would never let that happen."

Santana snorts and Rachel continues.

"And why do you even need to speed? I'm making a valid point," She goes on. "You could end up getting a ticket or worse, you could get us killed. We're in no hurry here and Shelby's house is—"

She stops, realizing what she had just said, and puts a hand to her mouth.

"Shit," Santana says, briefly turning to look at Rachel. "Just stop talking Rach—"

"What did you say?" Quinn asks slowly. She looks at Rachel before looking at Santana. "What did she say?"

"We're headed fo—," Rachel begins to explain but Santana cuts her off.

"We're going to see Beth and Shelby," She says finally, not looking at Quinn.

"What?" Quinn spits out, suddenly seeing red.

"We're going to see Beth and Shelby," Santana slowly repeats.

Quinn looks at everywhere but Santana. She's furious. She sees Rachel's face on the side mirror and sees that the brunette is looking down at her lap. She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Pull over," She says quietly.

"What? Q, we're on an interstate," Santana reasons, taking one glance at her.

Quinn doesn't care about where they are. They could be in space for crying out loud. She still needs to get out of the car before she strangles someone.

"San, stop the car," She warns.

"Quinn, we can't stop the c-"

"Stop the car!" She hears herself scream.

Santana looks surprised at her sudden outburst and Rachel looks slightly terrified. Santana pulls over to the shoulder and Quinn practically jumps out of the car while the tires are still rolling to a stop. She immediately starts walking away. Santana turns off the car before rushing out after her.

"Q, where the hell are you going?" She yells out as she runs to Quinn. Rachel steps out of the car and hesitantly stands by the car. She's uncharacteristically quiet.

Quinn stops a few feet away from Santana and violently turns around. She feels so betrayed right now. She looks at Rachel, remembering their conversation in the bathroom and then her finding her at the hospital. They all planned this behind her back. Like a fucked up intervention. Her anger just grows as she imagines all of them—Rachel, Santana, her mom, Sam—meeting and planning all of this.

"You had no right!" She screams, unable to breath from how livid she is. She's not going to cry. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I-we were just worried about you," Santana reasons, running her hand through her hair. "Q, this isn't something that's just going to go away."

"You don't think I know that?" Quinn's voice is barely a whisper. "You think I'm not constantly looking for Beth in every baby I see? You think I just randomly decided to avoid the maternity section in the hospital?"

Santana's mouth hangs open and she has nothing to say. Quinn looks at Rachel and the other girl is awkwardly clutching her arm, apprehensively looking at Quinn in the eye.

"I never ever once forgot. Never. She's always at the back of my mind."

Quinn doesn't notice, but Rachel looks down to hide her tears. Santana opens her mouth to speak but Quinn isn't done.

"And you think fucking tricking me and taking me there will fix it? How dare you! Both of you!" Quinn screams, her anger back in full force. Her entire body is shaking in anger. She looks from Santana to Rachel.

"How dare you!"

She's livid enough that it's clouding her judgment and she's thinking of running away despite the fact they're in the middle of cornfields. They all knew: Santana, Rachel, Sam, her mom…they all knew.

But…

They only care. She knows that they're her family and they only care.

Her vision becomes cloudy and that's when she realizes that she's crying. Her shaky legs finally give in and she crouches down, her arms around herself.

"She's my baby," Her voice cracks. "She was so small and perfect and her tiny hands were curled into fists…"

She cries and just like that, it feels like everything she's worked for this entire year has disappeared. Because right now, all she can think of is a little chest rising up and down, breathing peacefully in sleep. And then little arms moving as a soft yawn escapes the tiniest mouth. And those hands—those tiny pink hands with tiny fingers…

It really doesn't go away. It's been more than a year and it still hurts the same way. It hurts everywhere—at her very core, at the tips of her fingers, in places she didn't even know existed.

She doesn't know when it happened but Santana's hand is on hers and she's crouching down to meet her eyes. She's also crying. She doesn't know how long both of them stayed like this: crouched down on an interstate shoulder, crying and holding hands.

"I know, Q. I know," Santana says quietly. "And that's why we're making you go see her. Because you've been my island of sanity in all of this shit and I want to help you this time around. Because you're part of her. Just like she's a part of you. And because Shelby wants you to be a part of Beth's life."

The words click in her head slowly. Quinn looks up to meet her eyes and sees her best friend giving her a small smile. She swallows hard.

"She does?" She asks hesitantly.

Santana nods and smiles. Quinn blinks a couple of times before nodding slowly.

"Only if Puck gets to come with us," She says after a minute. "Beth is a part of him too."

Santana nods after a bit and she gets up.

"I'll give him a call and tell him to meet us there," She says as she offers Quinn a hand. Quinn takes it and gets up.

"Alright," Quinn responds. She opens her mouth hesitantly. "Hey, San?"

"Yeah?" Santana says, not looking up from her phone.

"Thanks," Quinn finally says.

"Wasn't me who came up with the idea," She explains before nodding her head towards Rachel's direction, who is still standing by the car.

"Oh," Quinn blinks. "Thanks either way."

Santana looks up at her for a second and smiles. It's a different smile—a grateful one, an apologetic one, one that says things Santana rarely ever says about their friendship, things that Quinn doesn't really need to hear either.

"It's what I do," Santana says smugly, busying herself with her phone to call Puck. Quinn starts walking back and Rachel looks at her with a quiet gaze. Quinn wordlessly leans against the car next to her and looks out at the cornfield in front of them.

"I'm sorry Quinn," Rachel starts apologizing but Quinn cuts her off with a subtle head shake.

"Thank you," She says quietly, looking at the other girl. Rachel is a little taken aback with her response but she slowly nods. She eventually smiles and looks at the cornfield as well.

"Part of me also wants to see Shelby," Rachel tells her quietly. "You've been searching for Beth in every baby you've seen just like how I've been searching for her my entire life. It might be too late for us to ever have a mother-daughter relationship but…"

She trails off and then looks at Quinn with a small smile.

"I'm turning a new page in my life and I wouldn't mind having her in it in some capacity."

Quinn nods slowly, remembering her own mom hugging her tight and whispering 'I love you' before they left.

"I'm sorry for ambushing you," Rachel says with a sheepish and apologetic smile. "But you're my friend Quinn. I still don't quite know how any of this happened to be honest. But you are. And I don't think I could have made it through this year without you."

Quinn's a little surprised at that.

"I want to be there for you when we get to that house," Rachel tells her before pausing. "But I also need you to be there for me."

Quinn just looks at her.

"I must admit that I'm a little nervous," Rachel confesses.

"I'm scared shitless," Quinn responds immediately and Rachel looks at her.

"Santana really is such a bad influence. Swear words seem to have infiltrated your vocabulary," She muses and Quinn just raises one eyebrow at her. Rachel laughs.

"You're lucky she can't hear you or she'd probably leave you stranded here."

"She would never," Rachel argues. "She's a softy."

Quinn looks back at Santana gesturing wildly in the air while she's on the phone with Puck.

"Yeah she is."

She turns back at Rachel and sees the worried look returning.

"Hey," She says, bumping her shoulder against hers. "It's okay. I'll hold your hand and you'll hold mine. And Santana will carry us over her shoulders after we faint from anxiety."

Rachel just laughs.

"She'll most likely end up carrying Noah as well."

* * *

><p>Rachel waves like a maniac when Puck enters the diner. They're thirty minutes away from Shelby's house and they decided to pull over and wait for Puck. Santana rolls her eyes because Rachel is waving like they're in a concert mosh pit when they're actually sitting in an empty diner where the only other living beings are the cashier and the vase of flowers by the window.<p>

Quinn just smiles as Puck comes closer. He's out of breath—Santana called him just as he was leaving for work and it kind of fascinates the three girls that he made it in the time that he did. But not really.

"Lookin fresh, Puckerman," Santana chides and Rachel giggles next to her. It's true, Puck did clean up a bit and he's wearing a button up shirt. The animal on his head is at his best behavior and he's even wearing his cleanest sneakers.

"Shut up," Puck tells her, sitting next to Quinn.

Rachel's berating Puck for undoubtedly speeding when Quinn speaks up. She's been quiet since they got to the diner.

"Can we stop by a mall or something?" She asks quietly. "I want to get something I can give to Beth."

She's not looking at any of them.

It's the first time she's said Beth's name out loud in over a year. And to be honest, it takes her by surprise. She still can't believe any of this is happening—the fact that she's sitting here, thirty minutes away from Beth, and the fact that she can actually say Beth's name out loud and not tear up. Her anger has subsided, and it's really just her anxiety that's slowly building up. She doesn't want to disappoint Beth, and looking at her life now, she's not entirely sure where she stands. She's trying, but she doesn't know if that's enough.

She wants to leave Beth something to remember her by, in case Shelby realizes all of this was a big mistake. She wants Beth to know how much she loves her.

Rachel gives her a smile after a second.

"Of course," she says slowly, getting up slowly. "I'll go check if there's one in the vicinity."

Rachel goes up to the cashier and Quinn feels Puck nudging her with his shoulder.

"We should get her a guitar, so she can be rockin' like her old man," He jokes.

"Oh hell no," Santana quips from the other side of the table, waving her fork around. "Mini Q is not going to rock a mohawk."

"Why not? My hair is awesome," Puck reasons. They start arguing and Quinn just smiles.

Her eyes drift to the cashier and she sees that it's only Rachel standing there, wringing her hands nervously and staring into space. She eventually sees Quinn looking at her. Quinn offers her a small smile and Rachel gives her a smile in return before looking back at the cashier who just returned with a map in hand.


	19. Chapter 19

They spent a good hour running around the mall that Rachel directed them to before finding something for Beth. It's funny because everyone ends up buying something for Beth:

Rachel buys her a DVD recording of the 1997 Broadway revival of Annie ("It's never too early to foster an appreciation for the musical arts!").

Santana gets her a Breadstix lifetime rewards card ("San, she's a baby." "So? Thas why it says _lifetime_. Duh.")

Puck picks up a baby mobile that'll sing little Beth to sleep. ("We can record me singing her lullabies. And you too, I guess." "I don't think we can do that, although that'd be totally awesome if we could sing her Jewish lullabies.")

And Quinn, who ends up being the last to find a present, makes a bear from Build-A-Bear.

"Why is your bear naked?" Santana asks as she inspects the bear.

"I agree with Santana for a change," Rachel quips in. "They do have such a wide collection of outfits right on this wall."

"Hey guys, look at this one," Puck calls from the said wall, pointing to a rocker outfit.

Quinn ignores them. She thought about the cheerleader one. Or the sundress. But she wants Beth to hug this bear and not have any notions of what anyone expects from her. Because Quinn will love her no matter what. That's why.

"I just want it this way," She tells them.

"Naked?" Santana asks and Quinn just rolls her eyes.

They're about to leave when Quinn spots a light blue blanket from far away. She goes up to it and it's the softest and warmest thing she's ever held. Remembering a similar blanket she had growing up, she takes it to the cashier and buys it.

* * *

><p>They pull up to a curb and Santana puts the car in park before turning the car off. Puck pulls up in his truck behind them.<p>

No one's saying anything at this point. Rachel is biting her lip and Quinn is paler than paper. Santana looks at the two of them. Then she looks at Puck from her rearview mirror and sees that he's obviously not going to get out of his car first.

Santana sighs.

"Must I do everything myself?" She asks with an eye roll, popping her door open and stepping out of the car.

"Is she serious?" Quinn asks as Santana goes up to the front door.

"Goodness she is," Rachel responds. "And that's the incorrect house."

She clamors out of the car to yank Santana back and Quinn actually laughs. She hears a knock on the glass and sees Puck leaning against the car, looking at her through the cracked window.

"You gonna come out?" He asks her quietly. Quinn looks back down at the bear in her hands.

"I don't know what we're doing here," Quinn finally says.

"We can still make a run for it," Puck mumbles, motioning to his truck.

Quinn laughs. She's about to say something about Santana killing them both for making her drive this far when Rachel's voice calls her. She looks up and sees the other girl approaching the car.

Puck straightens up and Quinn hears him say something along the lines of 'Oh god, there she is.'

Hesitantly, she follows Puck's eyes and finds Beth in Shelby's arms. They're standing in front of an open door with Santana waving them over impatiently. Shelby waves with a small smile.

Puck's already halfway there when Rachel appears in front of her and throws her door open. There's a hand in front of her face.

"I have you," She says quietly. "And you have me, right?"

Quinn stares at her for a second before looking back at Beth. She nods and smiles.

"Yeah," She finally says, taking Rachel's hand and getting out of the car.

* * *

><p>Quinn coos as she holds Beth in her arms.<p>

"I heard you got accepted into Stanford," Quinn hears Shelby say. Rachel, that blabbermouth…

"I did," She says slowly, turning her attention back to Beth. She smiles sadly. "But it's pretty expensive. I'm going to OSU in the fall."

"That's a shame," Shelby mutters. "Although, I don't think it matters where you end up going to for school. You'll make something out of yourself, Quinn."

Quinn looks up at her. Shelby gives her a slight smile.

"And Beth will be proud of you."

Quinn opens her mouth to speak but no sound comes out. Beth reaches out to touch her face and Quinn looks down at her. Beth laughs in wonder and Quinn lets out a laugh.

"Thank you," She finally says, looking up at Shelby. "For giving me and Puck a chance."

Shelby shrugs.

"You were kids. You're still kids. But you're also growing up," Shelby explains, fixing a bottle of milk for Beth. "You made the single, toughest decision of your life by giving Beth up for adoption, but that was also the right decision for Beth. And for the two of you."

Quinn watches as Shelby comes up to her with the bottle.

"I'm not going to pretend to know your life," Shelby tells her. "Because I don't. But I do know that you've had it rough. And life hasn't been fair."

Quinn doesn't say anything.

"And instead of whining about it and doing something ridiculous like dyeing your hair pink, getting a tattoo and throwing away everything that you had going for you, you turned around made the most of what you had."

Quinn makes a face, because that's just stupid. Pink hair?

"You know that you've made mistakes, but I think you've already forgiven yourself for those. And you're moving forward. That's the first step to growing up."

Beth laughs between them.

"I've spent half my life looking for Rachel," Shelby muses. "I just wanted you and Noah to go use that time to look for yourselves instead of Beth."

Shelby laughs.

"Although I hope she doesn't grow up to be spoiled rotten with all this attention."

Quinn smiles and gives the bottle to Beth.

"Does this make Beth Rachel's sister? Because that's weird," Quinn adds with a hint of a laugh. She looks at Shelby's hesitant face when she doesn't say anything back.

"You know," Quinn starts slowly. "I have this feeling that Rachel's been looking for you too."

As if on cue, Rachel's voice comes booming from upstairs, berating Puck and Santana because they're assembling the crib wrong. They're both in the living room while Rachel, Santana and Puck are upstairs. They volunteered to put together a crib that Shelby just bought. Puck jumped at the chance to act on his fatherly instincts, Santana followed suit because Puck "is a dumbass who can't be trusted with a hammer," and Rachel rounded out the group because they're "both incapable of reading instructions in plain English correctly."

Quinn starts laughing and when her laughter subsides, she sees Shelby looking at her with a look she can't quite describe.

"She's crazy," Quinn muses as she sways Beth lightly. "And bossy and over the top with the dramatics. But she's also the most selfless person I know."

Shelby nods slowly.

"Hopefully I'll get to find out for myself," She says quietly, reaching out to touch Beth's cheek.

* * *

><p>They end up spending the night in the basement. Quinn can't really sleep, and she knows it's not just Puck's god awful snoring or Santana's entire upper body crushing her lungs. She quietly escapes Santana's death grip and tiptoes over Puck's sleeping body. Making her way up the stairs, she enters Beth's room and stops by the crib. Looking around the room and noting the bright wallpaper and decorations Shelby's picked out, she settles back to the sleeping angel in the crib. The mobile is already hanging above her crib and Beth is dozing off peacefully.<p>

And right there, with her hands hesitantly holding on to the crib, is where Quinn finally comes to peace with herself for giving Beth up for adoption.

It's one thing to hear everyone say it around her. It's another to watch baby Beth sleeping peacefully in a home that only a functioning adult can provide for her. Quinn doesn't even know where she's going to be four years from now. And she'll still only be halfway to her dreams at that point. Both she and Puck have screwed up left and right, but what does Beth care about that? She'll know that her birth parents loved her enough to let her be someone else's daughter and live a normal childhood. And hopefully, someday, she'll also get to say that both her birth parents made something out of themselves.

Beth suddenly sneezes before pulling her new teddy bear closer to her. Quinn smiles and fixes her blanket.

* * *

><p>Tiptoeing back to the basement, Quinn catches a glimpse of the kitchen light. She stops, wondering who else could be up. The smell of hot chocolate almost makes her want to go to the kitchen. There's a quiet and slightly awkward laughter that is floating in the air and Quinn recognizes it as Rachel's voice. She also hears a hushed voice asking a question.<p>

Rachel's having hot chocolate with Shelby.

Quinn stands there for a couple more seconds before tiptoeing again. She successfully makes it back to her spot on the floor and Santana immediately cuts off her circulation again.

Except right then, at that very moment, she doesn't really mind. Somehow, with everything about to change irrevocably in a couple of months, Quinn knows that she's going to be okay.

* * *

><p>"She's just as stubborn as you," Rachel says, turning her attention to the little girl in her arms. The three of them are in the backyard and Rachel is holding Beth for the first time. "Aren't you, little Beth? Aren't you? You're even raising your eyebrows at me as if I'm some deranged floozy insisting that your then boyfriend should sing a duet with me. Preposterous, right?"<p>

Rachel looks at Quinn with a funny look on her face.

"Is that a Fabray gene? It seems every single Fabray woman I've met has given me her judgmental eyebrows at least once."

Quinn laughs.

"I don't know," She says. "Although if you meet my sister and she gives you the judgmental eyebrows, I can't really argue with that."

She watches as Beth reaches up to touch Rachel's hair. She leans in and gives Beth a kiss on her head.

"I love you," she whispers to Beth quietly, forgetting that Rachel is right there, holding the little girl. Beth giggles and gurgles something incoherent. She reaches out to Quinn and touches her face.

"Yentl! Q! Mini Q!" Santana hollers from the back door, startling the trio and ruining the moment.

"Goodness," Rachel mutters quietly, turning to look at Santana.

"We gots to start heading back!"

"Why is she screaming as if we're all deaf and standing on two different continents?" Rachel starts as Quinn takes Beth from her arms. Beth laughs and Quinn pulls her close.

"She's right though. We promised Finn you'd be back in time for prom."

Rachel blinks a couple times, looking at Santana and then Beth and then Quinn.

"I don't," she starts before trailing off. "Can we just—"

"Ay! Do I have to come over there and drag you both?" Santana yells out again, making no indication that she's going to move anytime soon. Puck shows up next to her, most likely telling her to pipe it down. He goes down the steps and walks towards them.

Quinn rocks Beth softly, smiling as the little girl gurgles something incoherent again. She looks at Rachel.

"Hey," She says softly. "What's up?"

Rachel opens her mouth to speak but says nothing. She shakes her head and takes Beth's hand, giving it a little handshake. Beth laughs, looking up at her and Quinn.

"Nothing," Rachel says finally, looking at Puck coming up to them. "I think it is time for us to start heading back."

Rachel gives the little girl one final kiss on the head, leaving Puck and Quinn to have a moment with Beth.

* * *

><p>Quinn and Puck enter the kitchen with Beth in tow and they find Santana making herself a massive sandwich. Puck snorts and Santana looks up.<p>

"What?" She snaps. "We've got a long drive back. You and Q and mini Q are having family time and Yentl over there is bonding with momma Yentl. So here I am, all alone and sad and all I have is this awesome samwich to keep me company."

She looks at Beth.

"Isn't that right mini Q?" Santana coos and Quinn raises an eyebrow. Because this is Santana being playful with a baby. Beth just laughs.

"See?" Santana says triumphantly.

Quinn rolls her eyes. Rachel and Shelby also enter the kitchen and Rachel gasps.

"Santana! How is baby Beth supposed to grow strong with you single handedly depriving this house of nutrition?"

Santana rolls her eyes before pointedly taking a bite. Rachel looks to Shelby for help but the older woman just laughs.

"It's okay, I told Santana to help herself," She explains. Santana sticks her tongue out at them before busying herself with the sandwich.


	20. Chapter 20

The last days of summer are winding down and Quinn has been busy running around town. She's helping her mom get ready for her big move, she's helping herself get ready for her big move and she's working her way through the long list of mental things she has to take care of before she leaves for OSU. The residents at the nursing home throw her and Sam a going away party. They all wore red and white, OSU's school colors, and they all bugged the chef to get them red and white sugar cookies for lunch. They even let win in bingo, which is a miracle in and of itself. When Sam convinces her to take one more picture with their usual bingo table, she can't help but smile as she pulls in close. And when she turns in her dorky vest and bow tie, a weird feeling washes over her and she leaves before she does something stupid like take the bow tie with her. Her last day of volunteering, she receives a hospital labeled drinking bottle. It's slightly tacky and a hideous shade of pink, and Rachel is giddy as heck because they have matching nalgene bottles (which results in a trademark Fabray eye roll). But as much as she downplays it, Quinn isn't lying when she says she's going to use it everyday.

* * *

><p>Quinn knocks on the door. Odd, she thinks to herself. She's never seen Angie's door closed. Angie pokes her head out and Quinn hears someone in tears inside.<p>

"Quinn, hi," Angie says quietly, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Quinn starts apologizing. "I didn't think you'd be with someone right now."

"It's alright," Angie reassures her with a smile.

"I just wanted to say thank you," Quinn starts uneasily. "And goodbye. I'm leaving for OSU in a couple of days and I wanted to make sure that I saw you before I headed off."

Angie makes a small and sad smile on her face and tears up a little.

"Give me just a second," She says, walking back into her office. Quinn takes this time to pull out something from her bag. Angie comes back out with something wrapped in brown paper.

"Here," Quinn says quietly, handing Angie the paper. It's a drawing of Beth she made in art class.

"Oh, thank you Quinn," Angie tells her, looking at the drawing. She holds it up like a proud parent. "This is going up on the wall."

Quinn laughs.

"I got this for you," Angie says, handing her the package. "Open it when you get home."

"Thank you," Quinn manages to say. She really isn't expecting this. "You shouldn't have."

Angie shakes her head.

"Come here kiddo," She says, holding her arms out. Quinn moves in and hugs her tight.

"Thank you," She repeats again, only this time it's barely a whisper. She shuts her eyes, telling herself not to cry.

Angie pulls away and looks at Quinn.

"Take care, Quinn," She says with a smile and tears in her eyes. "Keep in touch."

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"_Q, put some clothes on. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. And don't wear one of your dresses. Spare my eyes."_

"Wha-San, first of all, I'm not naked. Second, what's wrong with my dresses? And third, it's midnight and you just dropped me off an hour ago," Quinn reasons, getting up and rummaging for a pair of jeans anyway.

"_You need your beauty sleep. I'm leaving tomorrow morning. This is obviously more important,"_ Santana quips from the other line, abruptly hanging up and leaving Quinn with the dial tone.

* * *

><p>"For all I know, you're driving me to a deserted parking lot to kill me," Quinn says dryly, flipping through the radio stations.<p>

"Please," Santana drawls out, "Is that what you think of me? I'm far more creative that what you give me credit for."

"I'm glad to know that you're always on the ready when it comes to creative body disposals."

"I was a brownie scout after all," Santana says smugly, turning to Quinn with a toothy smile.

Quinn rolls her eyes and looks out the window, realizing that they were pulling into the empty mall parking lot.

"I thought you said you were more creative than a deserted parking lot at eleven at night," Quinn tells her as she looks around the empty parking lot. She looks at Santana, waiting for an explanation.

"I am," is all that Santana says, grabbing the plastic bag on the back seat and opening her car door. "Come on, princess. We gots to go."

"Where?" Quinn asks incredulously, before being answered by a resounding door slam. "She can't be serious," She says out loud, unbuckling her seat belt and throwing her door open. At first, it seems like Santana disappeared into thin air. It takes her a second to realize that Santana is directly behind the SUV, throwing all of the clutter in the trunk to the back seat. Quinn moves next to her and sees that Santana has completely emptied to the back.

"What are you…" Quinn trails off as Santana throws the bag into the trunk unceremoniously before hopping in herself. She holds out a hand for Quinn.

"Well? I don't have all day to wait for you fat ass to get up here," Santana says impatiently, rolling her eyes at Quinn's puzzled look. Quinn gets in and Santana waits for her to settle down before pulling the back hatch down and slamming it shut. She wordlessly hands Quinn a spoon before pulling out a pint of Haagen-Dazs ice cream.

"I don't really like ice cream," Quinn starts, but Santana cuts her off.

"Bitch, please," She says with one eyebrow raised, "We all know this is your favorite ice cream brand, even though you'd never admit it."

Quinn rolls her eyes, taking the tub and readjusting herself in an attempt to make herself more comfortable. A trunk that size was made for Berry sized legs. She looks up across from her and sees that Santana has her own tub of ice cream and she can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

A couple minutes later, while she's in the middle of ranting about her mom's pack rat-like qualities, Santana interrupts her midsentence.

"I said bye to Brittany," She says quietly, not meeting Quinn's eyes.

Quinn purses her lips, putting her ice cream down and looking down at the tub. She looks at Santana, who looks like a little girl, frowning and attacking her ice cream with a scary look on her face. Quinn doesn't prod anymore, because this is how Santana works. She just offers her tub of ice cream, because she knows Santana picked these two flavors for a reason. Santana looks up at her with a frustrated look on her face and takes the tub, digging in and looking out the window at nothing in particular.

"I had to say goodbye," Santana starts talking, more so to herself than to Quinn. Quinn nods, reaching for her tub of ice cream and getting her hand swatted away in the process. Okay. Too soon. Santana shoots her a look and she just backs off with her hands up. Santana settles down after a minute and starts speaking again.

"She's…She's Brittany," Santana mumbles, her forehead creasing as she attempts to use words to explain.

"Hey," Quinn finally talks. "She will always be Brittany. And you'll always be Santana."

Santana nods slowly, staring at Quinn's ice cream tub before handing it back to the other girl.

"Holy shit! It's a fucking drug deal!" Santana suddenly hisses, ducking down and holding her tub close. Quinn follows suit, crouching down and holding her own tub. Santana looks up to see what's going on and Quinn copies her against her better judgment.

She sees a bunch of guys standing in a circle, holding sketchy drinks hidden in brown bags. She's sure they can't see them, but Quinn can't help but be a little nervous. A big Cadillac pulls into the parking lot and the guys all turn.

"What do we do? Should we stay here til they leave? Should I call 9-1-1?" Quinn starts mumbling nervously. Santana looks at her incredulously. Like she's this close to slapping the other girl.

"Calm yo tits down," She hisses. "Just play it cool. These things don't last too long. They'll all leave soon. So just sit back and cling onto your tub for life."

And, turns out, Santana's right. They're all gone the next time Quinn resurfaces for air and she can't help but let out a big breath. She literally almost went into cardiac arrest. She turns to Santana, who has her back pressed against the trunk, clutching onto her tub.

She bursts out laughing and Santana does to.

* * *

><p>"You know, there are a lot more drug deals to spy on in Chicago," Santana says nonchalantly.<p>

They're outside of Quinn's house already and Quinn's half waiting her mom to come screaming down the porch, yelling at her for leaving so late and not letting her know.

Quinn looks at Santana and she knows that there's some truth behind the joke.

"I don't think my heart can handle that much stress again," Quinn drawls out.

"Such a softy," Santana replies with an eye roll.

It gets quiet and Quinn's not exactly sure what to do.

"Um," she starts but Santana cuts her off with a hand.

"Don't say any of that goodbye shit because you'll definitely see me again," She half barks.

Quinn laughs, because she's expecting this.

"Oh, trust me, I'm not worried about that. Sam and I have been planning about how we're going to keep you out of Columbus."

She gets an idea and suddenly gets out of the car.

"Where are y—" Santana starts saying until Quinn throws the driver's door open. Santana looks startled, staring at Quinn with a crease on her forehead.

"Yes?" She says slowly. Quinn takes her arm and yanks her out, pulling her into a hug.

"I don't freaking do this kind of shit!" Santana protests, refusing to wrap her arms around Quinn. Quinn just shakes her head, forcefully taking Santana's arms and putting them around her body. She can feel Santana rolling her eyes. "Jesus Christ."

Santana settles into the hug eventually and Quinn tells herself not to cry, because she will never hear the end of it if she does. Santana disentangles herself after a minute. She sniffles a little, clears her throat and straightens her clothes.

"If you pull that shit again, I'll stab you," Santana warns, narrowing her eyes at Quinn. "Bitch, crapping my style."

"Duly noted," Quinn responds, walking away from the car and making her way to her house. Santana gets into her car and rolls the passenger's window down.

"I'll see you later," Quinn calls out from her front porch.

"Girl, you bet your ass you will," Santana responds before waving and pulling away. Quinn watches her drive and smiles to herself before getting inside the house.

* * *

><p>A couple days later, Quinn finally starts packing up her room. She looks down at the small package on her lap. She still hasn't opened Angie's present.<p>

Quietly pulling back the brown paper, she sees a small square painting of a butterfly with the words 'courage' underneath it.

"Quinn, honey," Her mom calls out from downstairs. "Can you help me with this?"

"Sure mom," Quinn yells out, putting the painting on her desk, next to a picture that Rachel took of her and Beth. She dusts her hands and runs downstairs, where she finds her mom attempting to tape up an overstuffed box. Quinn tries not to laugh and instead moves over to hold the box down.

"What's that smirk for?" Her mom asks her with one eyebrow raised, taping the box shut and patting it down.

"You just looked funny attempting to hold this box together and tape it at the same time."

Her mom lets out a huff and ruffles her hair a bit.

"Come on, I haven't touched the kitchen at all," Her mom says, getting up and motioning for Quinn to follow her to the kitchen.

They end up ordering food after going through one side of the kitchen. Quinn takes a packet of hot sauce before looking up at the TV standing by its lonesome on the floor. They're more or less sitting on the hardwood floors Indian style, splitting a box of pizza between them.

"Santana's going to be so jealous when she finds out I'm eating BreadstiX pizza," Quinn says with a smirk, biting into her first slice.

"Really? Is it her favorite?" Her mom asks with a genuinely interested tone.

"She practically lives there," Quinn informs her. "I don't know how she's going to survive without it."

"Her mom could always ship her some frozen BreadstiX," Her mom adds thoughtfully, biting into her own slice. "She left two days ago, right?"

"Yes," Quinn replies, a little surprised that her mom remembered.

"Hopefully she visits you and Sam a lot. She is quite a riot."

Quinn looks at her mom, who a year ago was calling 'Santa-Ana' a hooker. She just smiles.

"Oh, she will. I'm making her," Quinn says.

"I've always loved pizza," her mom tells her before biting into her pizza.

"Really? I think I've only seen you eat pizza twice in my life," Quinn responds, unable to hide her surprise.

"Oh, your father wasn't a big fan of pizza," Her mom reveals nonchalantly. "He insisted that I cook full meals like a proper housewife."

"Of course," Quinn mumbles, rolling her eyes and getting another slice.

"But if I could, I would definitely have pizza every night," Her mom continues, taking another slice for herself as well.

"No one's stopping you now," Quinn says with a smile, looking at her mom and realizing how far she's come. How far both of them have come.

Then she laughs.

"Although Mom, you would get fat."

Her mom looks at her, appalled.

"I'm not capable of getting fat," She responds with an indignant tone, biting into her pizza and managing to keep a straight face for a grand total of two seconds before laughing with Quinn.

* * *

><p>Quinn steps out of the 24 hour convenience store with a pint of ice cream in tow. It's 4 in the morning and she's almost positive that asides from her and the convenience store clerk, everyone else in the town is still sleeping.<p>

She can't sleep. She's leaving for Columbus in a couple hours and there's something about sleeping in a room—no, in a house—full of boxes and bare walls that just unsettles her. She silently crept out of the house, walking around her neighborhood before seeking out some sustenance in the form of Edy's Rocky Road ice cream.

It's deathly quiet and she smiles ever so faintly.

Rounding the street corner, she notices a figure sitting on one of the swings in the park. She notices disheveled brown hair. The person is swaying softly, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

Oddly enough, the last person she sees before she leaves Lima is Rachel Berry.

Quinn stands still, debating her options. She almost walks away, back to the confines of her boxed up house when she hears Rachel humming. Silently cursing because she knows she'll regret this lack of sleep later, she crosses the street and quietly makes her way towards the swing set.

Except she isn't quiet and the woodchips give her away. Rachel looks up quickly, slightly alarmed at the noise. She's a little surprised to see Quinn but she recovers like a pro and manages to smile a small smile.

"Hi," Rachel says quietly, holding on to a mug on her lap.

"Hey," Quinn responds, settling on the swing next to her. She pulls out the ice cream out of the bag.

"Do you want some?"

"No, thank you," Rachel responds with a laugh, holding her mug up and shaking her head. "Fueling your addiction, I see."

Quinn laughs.

"Guilty as charged."

They settle into silence for several minutes and Quinn realizes that the sun is rising.

"All packed?" Rachel asks after a beat, bringing the mug up to her mouth.

Quinn nods.

"My house is in boxes," She elaborates. "I'm leaving in six hours."

"Quinn," Rachel starts with her matter of fact tone. "Sleep is an essential component to proper growth and mental health."

"Hey Pot, my name's Kettle," Quinn tells her with a raised eyebrow and a slightly upturned corner on her lip.

Rachel looks slightly offended, but then she laughs and rolls her eyes.

"So. Leaving tomorrow," Quinn starts slowly, pushing off the ground slightly.

Rachel takes another sip and remains quiet for a couple minutes.

"Tomorrow," she finally says after a minute or two.

"Nervous?"

Rachel nods slowly with a small smile on her face.

"I'm not coming back to Lima," Quinn says out of nowhere. "There's nothing for me here."

Which is true. Her mom is moving, Santana is going to college in Chicago, Beth was never here to begin with and Sam is going to OSU with her.

There's nothing left for her in Lima, Ohio.

"My parents are moving to Cincinnati," Rachel tells her quietly.

Quinn is a little surprised. Dr. Berry never said anything about relocating and Rachel definitely never mentioned anything about it.

"As a family, we decided that it would be beneficial not to let many people know about our family's relocation. I know they've wanted to move for quite some time now. They were just waiting for me to graduate."

"And now that you're leaving," Quinn starts and Rachel nods.

"Now that I'm moving to New York, they can finally pick up many of the dreams they've had to put aside for me," Rachel continues, swirling her mug.

"So, I guess there is nothing left for me in this town either," Rachel adds, looking down at her feet.

Quinn looks at her for a long second before nodding, mulling over the words that she just said.

"It's a new start for them and for me," Rachel stops and turns to look at Quinn. "And for you. It's a new start for all of us."

"Yeah."

Quinn takes another spoonful of ice cream before realizing something.

"Hey Rachel," Quinn mumbles, putting her ice cream pint down.

"Hmm?"

"How about a do over?"

Rachel looks up with a puzzled look on her face and she's met with Quinn's hand.

"I'm Lucy Quinn Fabray," Quinn starts hesitantly, realizing how crazy she looks at the moment. "And it's nice to meet you."

Rachel looks at the hand and back at Quinn before reaching out to shake the girl's hand.

"Rachel Barbara Berry, future star. It's a pleasure, Quinn."

They stay like that for a moment before settling back into their respective swings.

"Quinn!" Rachel cries out suddenly. "Did your mother not teach you how to eat ice cream? Your hands are all icky!"

Quinn purses her lips. Ice cream melts, so what?

"Be quiet, Rachel."

"Here, hold this," Rachel orders as she shoves her boot shaped mug into Quinn's hands before wiping her hands on her pajamas.

They stay and talk and watch the sun come up and it isn't until they hear Mrs. Jenkins from down the street yelling at her neighbors for stealing her morning newspaper that they realize how long they've been sitting there. They laugh and gather themselves together.

"It feels like we're on the precipice of something huge, doesn't it?" Rachel muses, looking at Quinn. Quinn nods quietly, looking at her for a second.

"Ever the one with the dramatics," she replies with a smile, earning an indignant look from Rachel.

They're almost about to separate ways when Rachel speaks up.

"Take care, Quinn," She tells her, stopping at the corner.

"You take care of yourself," Quinn responds, pulling her sweatshirt closer. "Get out of this town already."

Rachel laughs, walking backwards and away from her.

"Bye," She calls out while waving her hand.

"Bye."

It isn't until she's home that Quinn realizes that she's still holding Rachel's mug in her hands.

* * *

><p>"You look awful," Sam says as he walks into her packed up house.<p>

"Good morning to you too," Quinn greets him with an eye roll. "Come on, I've got some bagels and caffeine in the kitchen. "

"Perfect, just what we need to start this moving day right," Sam yawns out, following her into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"Got everything?"<p>

She nods, looking out the car window. She hears Sam cranking up the gear shift and her mom commenting on not hitting the neighbor's mailbox.

Silently, Quinn says goodbye to Lima, Ohio.

**END**

* * *

><p>Thank you to all of you who stuck with this story. I wanted to write something that was, at its core, Quinn looking at her life and figuring herself out. The title is all about that. Quinn's not promising to get her shits together; she's calling it because it's only a matter of time before she does. ("It's not a promise, I'm just gonna call it" is a line from Bon Iver's <em>BethRest_)

And at this point in the story, she hasn't…But who has their life figured out at 18? (Let me tell you that this girl right here didn't) And even if you're Rachel Berry and you've written a thirty page manifesto about it, who says it's going to turn out the way you planned it to?

Right now, I have two sequels planned and several quick one shots to fill the gaps in this story but life is getting a little nutty. I really hope I find time to share Quinn's shenanigans in college with Sam, Mike and, occasionally, Santana, and then what happens after they get out into the real world.

I mean, Quinn Fabray falling in love would be something to witness, wouldn't it?

On a completely random side note, check out this song:

Bon Iver – Beth/Rest: http:/ / xPHgOeKr0xQ

This is a piano version that he did. Check it out because it's awesome. Bon Iver is AWESOME. No, seriously. And if you've never heard of it, Tracy Chapman's _Fast Car_ is what really spurred this whole three series idea in my head. It's a great song (I say that about every song, I know), so give that a spin while you're at it.

Thank you,

Riddlemeister


End file.
